by J. T. Edson
“He’s been given more!” the maid replied angrily. “When he searched the suite, he found some tom that’d been stolen from another room in one of her bags.”
“Tom?” the lady outlaw queried. xxvi
“Jewelry,” Florence translated, agitation once again having caused her to employ the jargon of British criminals.
“Benkers never mentioned having taken any to me,” Belle commented, despite feeling sure the stolen property would not have been found so easily if she had done so.
“She never took the bloody stuff!” the maid denied. “That bastard Pink-Eye must have got in while neither of us was there and planted it.”
“I’ve heard of such things being done,” the lady outlaw admitted. “Although, by all accounts, Allan Pinkerton always says he doesn’t countenance his Pink-Eyes doing things like that.” xxvii
“This one did!”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, honey. The trouble is, I can’t see the marshal being willing to take your word, or mine, that he did it. There’s one chance, though. Have you any idea when the jewelry was taken?”
“Around noon yesterday. Does that help?”
“Not a whole heap,” Belle sighed. “The only way we could prove Benkers has an alibi would be to tell how we were with the butler, paying him off for letting us cheat those women at the mansion.”
“Then she’s done to rights!” Florence estimated with a groan. “The Pink-Eye said she’s sure to get jailed when he’s got her back to New York.”
“How did you get away?” the lady outlaw inquired, then raised her right hand in placatory gesture as she saw her words had been misconstrued. “Now don’t take what I said the wrong way, honey. I’m more than pleased you did. Tell me everything that happened. Start from the beginning and try not to leave anything out.”
“I was down in the lobby. Miss Benkers had told me to go and listen to what those ‘votes for women’ crowd were saying about some big parade they’re holding tonight.”
“I know the one she meant. It’s going to be around the Capitol Building and they’re thinking of stirring up trouble.”
“It sounded that way. Well, I was on my way back when I saw the marshal and that Pink-Eye going up ahead of me. I knew about the tom being nicked, but didn’t think anything about it until I saw them making Miss Benkers let them into our rooms. They hadn’t seen me and I listened at the door, which’s how I found out what was going on. Then, when I heard they were fetching her out, I took stoppo and come here. You don’t mind me coming, do you, miss? Only I couldn’t think of anybody else to turn to.”
“I’d have been annoyed if you hadn’t come,” Belle drawled, thinking how fortunate it was that the most important of Benker’s belongings had been transferred to the boarding house as a precaution against the need for them to leave Austin hurriedly.
“Can you do anything!” Florence pleaded, close to tears.
“I don’t know,” the lady outlaw confessed. “One thing’s for sure. There’s no legal way of getting her out.”
“Then she’s done for,” the maid moaned.
“Not if I can help it!” Belle claimed, pensively and yet with a ring of grim determination in her voice. “I’ve never pulled a jail break, but I’ve always been told birds of a feather stick together and, as sure as sin’s for sale in Cowtown, I’m going to give it a try.”
Chapter Twenty-Four – All We Had To Do Was Wait
“If anybody had told me that I would ever be grateful to those awful women, I’d have thought they were daffy,” Amelia Penelope Diana “Benkers” Benkinsop declared, reminding herself to keep walking in a manner suitable to the masculine attire she was wearing. “But, after all the dear girls have done for me, I’m almost sorry I let you browbeat me into helping fleece some of them.”
“You’ve got the easiest brow I’ve ever come across to beat,” Belle Starr asserted. Having had more practice, she was experiencing less difficulty in ensuring her gait matched the garb she had on, despite it also being that of the opposite gender. “Why you was like to chomp, whomp and stomp me when I said it wasn’t cricket—don’t you Lime-Juicers say—to take advantage of those poor lil ole Yankee soft-shells.”
For the rest of her life, the lady outlaw would always claim the rescue of her English friend was her finest achievement!
Having set her mind to the task of freeing Benkers, Belle had displayed a planning skill many a military commander would have envied!
Despite Florence Drakefield having suggested there might be better opportunities while the beautiful prisoner was being taken to New York, the lady outlaw had concluded there were factors which favored taking action without delay. For one thing, a rescue bid was unlikely to be expected so soon after Benkers had been taken into custody. Another reason, even more important, had been an appreciation of the benefits which might accrue as a result of an event which was scheduled to take place that night. Taking the latter into account, she had checked upon the various clothing and disguises stored in a well concealed hiding place below the boarding house owned by her aunt, and had selected the costumes which she believed most suited to her purpose. Having explained what she meant to do to the maid, they had made arrangements for a speedy departure from Austin if they should meet with the anticipated success.
Everything hinged upon one factor!
It was common knowledge that some of the advocates for women’s suffrage did not intend merely to parade in a passive fashion around the Capitol Building, but were determined to draw attention to their cause by actions intended to bring about their arrest. Therefore, Belle had felt sure the town marshal would assemble as strong a force as possible in an attempt to keep the peace. Clad in the fashion she had selected, she and the maid had kept watch from near the jailhouse and satisfied themselves that her summation was correct, thereby increasing Florence’s admiration for her. As the maid had remarked, probably on no other occasion at that hour would there have been only two deputies present in the office.
Confronted by what appeared to be a pair of nuns, neither peace officer had been suspicious when asked if religious solace could be given to the only prisoner held in the cells at the rear of the building. Nor, presented with a half empty bottle of good quality whiskey supposedly taken from ‘a poor sinner who knew not what he did’ and asked to dispose of what was left, had they resisted the temptation to sample the contents. In doing so, they had saved themselves from being subdued by less peaceful and painless measures. Proving as effective as when used against David Icke and Benkers, the potion which Belle had added to the liquor rendered them unconscious speedily.
Dragging the deputies into the cell area, the rescuers had used the keys from the desk in the office to set the honey blonde free. The removal of their habits had revealed that, in addition to wearing other clothing to be used when taking their departure, they had brought suitable attire including her Webley Royal Irish Constabulary revolver and gunbelt to replace the garments she was wearing.
Clad and armed as a cowhand, with a loose fitting jacket to help conceal her feminine contours as Belle was Benkers had found the key on the ring which unlocked the safe in the office. While Florence kept watch on the street, dressed after the fashion of a ‘lady of easy virtue’, they had retrieved such of her property as had been put there by the marshal. She had declined the suggestion of the maid that, as she had already been accused of stealing it, she should also take the jewelry which the supposed Pinkerton operative had hidden in her room and which was being retained as evidence for holding her until extradition could be arranged. The lady outlaw had agreed with the decision and it was subsequently proved to have been justified.
Leaving the building, their activities in the office having gone unnoticed due to the fact that people who might otherwise have been in the vicinity had gone to watch the parade by the suffragettes at the Capitol Building, the three young women had made their way to the boarding house. Their arrival having also gone unquestioned, they had stayed
no longer than was required to leave the nuns’ habits in the secret hiding place. Arrangements had been made for their departure from Austin, including the means of transport and their belongs had been made ready during the afternoon. They had not changed the clothing they were wearing, gambling upon it helping to prevent them being connected with the escaped prisoner and her female rescuers should the alarm be raised sooner than anticipated. This had not happened and they were approaching their destination.
Hearing the sounds of a disturbance some distance away, Benkers had made the reference to the people who had unwittingly helped to bring about her liberation.
“I haven’t mentioned it before, old thing, but you do tend to over exaggerate somewhat on occasion,” the honey blonde remarked. “By the by. I haven’t thought to ask, but what have you in mind for us after we’ve left this charming city?”
“We’ll start by heading south, as if we’re figuring on crossing the Rio Grande into Mexico,” Belle replied. “Then, once we’re clear of Travis County, we’ll make a swing around and lie low at a safe place I know until we’ve found out how much of a hunt there’s being made for you. When we know that, we can decide upon the best way to get you out of the country.”
“It’s your home range, as I believe you colonials put it,” the honey blonde assented. “So I’ll leave myself in your hands and plead insanity when we get arrested.”
“How soon will they be after us?” Florence asked, walking arm in arm with the other two as might be expected of the kind of people they were pretending to be.
“Going by the racket over to the Capitol, we ought to have a good head start before the marshal gets to know what we’ve done,” the lady outlaw estimated. Then she waved her free hand in the direction of the small livery stable, owned by a retired outlaw who was another trusted acquaintance. “Here we are, so we’ll soon be on our way.”
“I hope your friend will be there,” Benkers commented, seeing no sign of life although the inside of the main barn was illuminated. “I’d like to give him something for his help.”
“I’ve already attended to that,” Belle answered. “Going by what they were saying, Sam and his boys were figuring on walking over to the Capitol to watch what’s going on. He gave me the key to the storeroom and promised they’d leave the horses and rig ready before they left.”
Entering the building, the Englishwomen found it appeared to be as the lady outlaw had claimed. There was no sign of anybody else present, but the fine buckskin gelding which she had used while travelling through Texas was saddled and an equally good quality horse stood harnessed to a buckboard. Seeing everything as she expected, she led the way towards the animals.
“Hold it there and keep your hands still!”
Hearing the words, spoken in a harsh Chicago accent, Belle and her companions did as was ordered. Turning her head, she saw three men in travel stained city style clothing holding revolvers and coming towards then from empty stalls in which they had been hiding. She recognized one as Joseph ‘Church’ Steeples and, from the family resemblance, concluded the other two were his brothers, Albert ‘High’ and Wilfred ‘Little’. Aware that they were too far apart for her to take any action, she made no attempt to do so. Much to her relief, Benkers was showing an equal grasp of the situation and refraining from making any kind of movement.
“Just like I told you, boys!” Church Steeples announced. “With that big buckskin of her’n saddled up and a buggy hitched ready, she was figuring on pulling out. All we had to do was wait for her to show up.”
“You told us,” admitted Little Steeples, tallest and youngest of the brothers, sounding just a trifle grudging. “Only you reckoned it’d be Parson Higgert and that hot-assed gal of his with her and these two ain’t either of them.”
“That makes it all the better,” High Steeples claimed, running a lascivious gaze over Belle, Benkers and Florence in turn. “It’ll be one a-piece now and more fun all way ’round.”
“All right, Starr!” Church growled, directing a scowl at the middle sibling. Possessing greater intelligence, he wanted to prevent the import of the ill-advised remark being appreciated by the women, causing them to raise a commotion before they could be taken somewhere there would be no chance of them being heard. “Don’t give us any fuss and you won’t get hurt. We’re taking you to the jailhouse.”
“Like hell that’s what you’re aiming to do!” Belle denied, wanting to ensure her companions were alerted to the fate she felt certain awaited them all. “There’s no legal bounty, or open warrant, on me anywhere. So you’re after the money you’ve been told I’m toting and you don’t need to keep me alive to collect the rest of whatever Armond Chauvelin’s promised you. He just wants my hide nailing to the wall.”
Watching the reaction of the brothers to her words, the lady outlaw knew she was correct in her assumptions. Nor had these been difficult to draw. It was unlikely that the Frenchman would have been sufficiently trusting to have given them enough money to go to all the trouble it must have taken to find her. Therefore, in addition to whatever advance payment he had made, he had offered them further inducement by convincing them she would be carrying a large sum with her.
Under different circumstances, Belle might have felt a certain admiration for the skill and enterprise shown by the brothers. Having succeeded in picking up her trail, they had had the forethought to obtain a description of the horse she was using. Locating it and finding it saddled, they had deduced that she was planning to leave Austin and had waited in concealment, after the departure of Sam and his hostlers, for her to put in an appearance. However, having succeeded in capturing her, they had no reason to keep her alive. Nor, she was certain, would they spare either of her companions. In fact, the only reason they had not opened fire immediately was that they didn’t want to bring people to investigate the shooting.
“Keep your god-damned yapper shut, Starr!” Church commanded. “And all of you stick your hands out so’s Brother Hugh can fasten ’em!”
“You’ve got me,” the lady outlaw pointed out, without doing as ordered. “These girls have no part in this, so leave them behind.”
“And have them telling all your buddies about us?” High scoffed. “Like hell we’re leaving them to do that!”
“So you’re taking us too, are you?” Benkers inquired, sounding mild.
“You can bet your god-damned life we are,” High confirmed, oblivious of the prohibitive glare directed at him by Church. “So get your hands stuck out like you was told.”
“Very well,” honey blonde assented, showing no concern.
While speaking, Benkers swung her gaze briefly to Florence and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Having done so, hoping her faith in the maid and Belie would be justified, she looked to the front and began to raise her hands.
“Here!” Florence yelped, starting to walk towards High. “You’ve got no call to take me, mister. I’ve never seen these two before tonight. I thought they was just a couple of them posh women who’re in town and liked girls instead of blokes.”
“Get the hell back th—!” the middle sibling snarled, reaching with the intention of pushing the maid away.
Grabbing the hand which was coming towards her, Florence raised it and buried her teeth into it. Taken completely unawares, High gave out a yell of mingled pain and anger which produced the effect she knew her employer was seeking. However, she hoped Belle would also be ready to make the most of any opportunity which arose. From what she saw while hanging on to the hand she was biting, she had achieved what she was trying to do.
Despite being startled by the commotion, if Church and Little had been dealing with men, they would not have succumbed to the instinctive reaction to look around. However, although they had noticed the gunbelts worn by Belle and Benkers, they had discounted these as being no more than part of the masculine attire used as a disguise.
The brothers were making a very serious mistake!
Having seen the signal passed between
her companions, the lady outlaw was prepared for whatever might happen. As soon as the revolver which Church was pointing at her, wavered from its alignment, she sent her right hand flashing downwards. Grasping the butt of the Manhattan Navy Model revolver, she began to lift it. Thumbing back the hammer, as the six and a half inch barrel cleared the lip of the fast draw holster, she fired at waist level and by instinctive alignment. Such was the skill she had acquired by much practice, she sent the .36 caliber bullet into the center of the bounty hunter’s forehead and killed him instantly.
Possessing complete faith in Florence’s ability to create the desired distraction, although not quite so fast as the lady outlaw, Benkers had been even more ready to respond when it came. In fact, she started reaching for her Webley Royal Irish Constabulary revolver an instant before Belle’s draw was commenced. However, despite the advantage offered by the shorter barrel, the shot she got off came a fraction of a second later. The result was just as effective. Directing the lead in the way she knew it must go, aware that the man would show no mercy to herself and her friends, she shot to kill. Flying as was intended, the bullet took Little in the left breast and, tearing apart his heart, spun him in a lifeless twirl across the barn.
Satisfied she had played her part, Florence opened her mouth and flung herself away from High. On the point of turning his revolver upon her, he heard the shots fired by the other women. Seeing what had happened to his brothers, he changed his intentions. Starting to swing the weapon towards Belle and Benkers, finding himself the object of their attentions, he did not know which of them would pose the greater threat. Nor was he given a chance to make the decision. Aware of the danger, both responded to it instantly. Their revolvers spoke almost simultaneously and either bullet would have proved fatal. Thrown backwards, the last of the bounty hunters was dead before he joined the corpses of his brothers on the floor.