by J. T. Edson
‘Well now, I couldn’t come right out and say “yes” to that?’ the red head replied, although her demeanor implied she wished for nothing more than to be able to do so. Still in the manner of one who was passing on a tasty titbit of information, despite wondering if skillful manipulation of the cards had been responsible for the Kid’s consistent successes since the games had commenced on the train from Mulrooney, she continued, ‘But I’d sooner be curled up all warm ’n’ comfy in bed with him than sitting in on any pot he’s dealing. Because, happen he don’t cheat, he’s the luckiest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever come across. And he sure’s hell knows some right sneaky ways of setting up ’n’ winning bets from—’ Snapping her head around as she stopped speaking, she gave a perfect impersonation of having been struck by a thought and went on, ‘Hey now! It’s none of my never-mind, but I’m getting a sneaky notion that your loving “husband” could be a gambling man!’
‘Well … Yes, he is,’ Vera confirmed hesitantly, as if reluctant to make the admission. ‘That’s why I wasn’t more sociable on the train, I didn’t want to let him get involved in the card game. I’m afraid he is a gambler – and not a very successful one. Which is why I’m so worried over M’sieur Cavallier being so insistent that we bring those two with us.’
‘So you reckon that fancy talking Canucker’s brought the Kid along to help trim your loving “husband”, huh?’ Calamity hinted.
‘It’s possible,’ Vera pointed out, delighted by the way she had guided the red head into the required line of thought and too arrogant to imagine it could be otherwise. ‘But I can’t think of any way of finding out if that’s what is intended.’
‘Asking ’em straight out won’t get you nowhere,’ Calamity warned.
‘I know that,’ the actress admitted.
‘There’s one way you could find out, though,’ Calamity remarked, with an all too obvious false casualness. ‘Or I for sure could.’
‘From him?’ Vera suggested rather than asked.
‘The first question’s how much’s doing it worth?’
‘Worth?’
‘Why sure. How much do I get paid for finding out what they’re up to?’
‘Could you do it?’ Vera challenged.
‘I reckon I can,’ the red head declared confidently.
‘From him?’ the actress repeated.
‘I’d surely like to give that a whirl,’ Calamity answered, grinning lecherously. ‘Only it’ll be easier, if not near’s much fun, getting it out of good ole “Lavinia”. We got on real good ’n’ friendly while we were sharing a cell in the pokey, ‘specially after the Kid didn’t show to try ’n’ get her out. So I conclude that, was it made worth my while, she’d tell me what’s going on was we to be put together.’
‘You mean ride together on this wagon?’ the actress asked.
‘Not so much ride’s sleep together,’ Calamity corrected.
‘I don’t follow you,’ Vera confessed reluctantly.
‘I dunno about you, but for the life of me, I can’t think up one good reason for stopping her riding along with him all day,’ the red head explained, exuding thinly veiled disdain over her passenger’s lack of comprehension. ‘And she’s not over likely to tell me much while we’re all sat ’round the camp fire at night, now is she?’
‘I suppose not!’ Vera conceded, barely able to conceal her resentment at such a lack of respect from a social inferior.
‘You know not,’ Calamity corrected. ‘Is it worth fifty dollars?’
‘Fifty dollars?’ the actress almost yelped.
‘I figure they’re counting on taking your loving “husband” for a whole lot more’n that,’ Calamity elaborated, then shrugged. ‘Hell, if it’s not worth my while, I’d’s soon leave it be.’
‘I’ll give you the fifty,’ Vera promised without enthusiasm, being parsimonious by nature. ‘But how can we arrange to have you put together?’
‘Easy enough,’ Calamity replied. ‘You being such a well brought up, God-fearing lady ’n’ all, you’d not take kind to having folks’s aren’t married sleeping together like they was. Put that way, you could set your foot down and insist’s they don’t and the only other place they can let her bed down’s with me. Once we’ve got that fixed, you’ll soon enough get to know what’s going on.’
Which, Calamity told herself virtuously, was the truth; except that it would not be done in the way the woman at her side imagined she meant.
‘Why the nerve of that old woman, Calamity!’ Belle Boyd said, in tones of righteous indignation, watching the red head standing in a tense and slightly crouching posture at the rear end of the wagon and clearly listening to something other than her words. ‘It’s none of her business if Rem and I aren’t married, is it?’
Never suspecting that she was playing into their hands, Vera Gorr-Kauphin had done as Calamity suggested and made it possible for the two girls to be able to exchange confidences.
At the end of the day’s journey, after an excellent meal produced by the Chinese cook, Big Chew, the men had settled down to play poker and the women turned in for the night. Refusing an invitation to ‘come and sit a spell’, the actress had retired to the wagon she and “Devlin” were using so that the red head could – as she imagined – start earning the fifty dollars she had been compelled to hand over.
However, on boarding her wagon, the red head and Belle had not launched into an immediate discussion of the day’s events. Instead, they had talked about the things which might have been expected of them if they were what they pretended to be. Having heard the Kid calling for Cavallier to hurry back as he was holding up the game, both had realized it was meant as a warning to them and they were preparing to deal with it.
Grasping the left side rear “half bow”, Calamity swung herself over the tailgate and dropped to the ground. On landing, her right hand liberated the bull whip and, stepping around the end of the wagon, she sent its lash opening out behind her ready for use.
‘All right, you sneaky son-of-a-bi…’ the red head began, glaring through the partial darkness at the man whose stealthy approach she had detected. Then her attitude changed and her voice became less hostile as she went on, ‘Oh! It’s you, “mon-sewer”. I figured it was one of the Chinks, or them two butt-dragging, mouth-jerking hoss-spoilers good ole Jebediah Lincoln calls drivers ’n’, no matter which, figured to teach him better manners to come trying to peak at us gals undressing.’
‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Calamity,’ le Loup-Garou apologized, deciding the girl had exceptionally sharp ears to have heard him approaching as silently as he had been. He also concluded from the explanation she had given, she was used to having male fellow travelers behave in the manner she had stated and he considered any attempt to eavesdrop would be fraught with danger of discovery. ‘But I have just been to – been – and thought I would come to make sure you were both comfortable on my way back.’
‘Now that was real considerate of you, “mon-sewer”,’ Calamity declared, with such a friendly spirit she might have believed he was telling the truth, ‘We’re fine. Only, was I you, I’d shout was you to come ’round again when “Lavinia” ’n’ me’re likely to be getting undressed ready for bed. Which I’m kind of jumpy when I’m doing that. Last time it happened, I cut an eye out of the jasper’s outside the wagon with this ole bull whip. Way he squawked and took on, I’d sooner not do it again ’less I had to.’
‘I will remember and warn the others,’ Cavallier promised and, walking by the red head and crossed to where the rest of the men were seated around the two camp fires.
‘I’ll just bet you god-damned will!’ Calamity mused, coiling the whip’s lash and returning the handle to her belt’s loop.
Strolling back from the dark side of the wagon, the red head saw Vera closing the rear flaps of her vehicle. Having been on the point of trying to eavesdrop on the two girls’ conversation, the actress had seen le Loup-Garou detected while making a similar attempt. Hearing Calamity’s r
emarks, she had decided against taking the risk and was withdrawing as the girl returned.
On the point of climbing into the wagon, a frown came to Calamity’s face. She stared at the tailgate and the hinges which attached it to the bed. After a few seconds, she gave a nod and, swinging aboard, she closed the flaps.
‘I don’t reckon anybody else’ll try it tonight,’ the red head remarked, unbuckling her gunbelt.
‘Or me,’ Belle replied, having watched and listened to all that had taken place. Returning to sit on her opened out bed roll, she continued, ‘So they don’t have the arms and ammunition with them yet?’
‘Not in the wagons,’ Calamity admitted, placing the gunbelt and whip by her bed.
‘Then I wonder where they’ll pick it up?’ Belle inquired, the possibility having been envisaged.
‘I said it’s not in the wagons,’ the red head pointed out. ‘Right from the start, I knew there was something’s didn’t feel right about this son-of-a-bitching rig; but I reckoned that was only ’cause it was new to me. Now I know different. We’re carrying the guns and shells all right.’
‘Where are they?’ Belle asked.
‘We’re sitting on some of them,’ the red head replied.
‘Peddling guns to Indians?’ Jebediah Lincoln gasped, staring at his newest employee with the kind of indignantly injured innocence which had fooled more than one lawman or Army officer who had made a similar accusation. ‘Me?’
‘You,’ Calamity agreed, speaking just as quietly as she had when raising the point. She had asked the freighter to come and check on a wheel at the side of her wagon away from the two camp fires around which the rest of the “hunting party” were gathered at the end of the second day’s journey. ‘Come on, boss-man, don’t try to shit a lil ole shitter like me.’
‘Aw now, Calam!’ Lincoln protested, without raising his voice, but his expression was wary and his right hand started to rub at the center of his chest. ‘You saw inside all the wagons before we left Stokeley—’
‘But not under the beds,’ the red head countered. ‘Or I should say inside ’em.’
‘Inside?’ Lincoln repeated, growing even more tense and the hand moved nearer to the left side flap of his jacket. ‘I don’t—’
‘You just stop scratching like you’ve got a flea afore doing it gets you hurt for no good reason Jebediah!’ Calamity commanded, her right hand turning palm outwards as she thumb-hooked it on to the gunbelt close to the butt of the Navy Colt ‘Goddamn it, I’m not like those stock-spoiling, wagon-ruining son-of-bitches you usually have to hire. I can tell from its feel that that damned rig of mine’s handling too heavy for the load she’s toting and, on top of that, the bed’s way too thick.’
‘So you reckon there could be guns hidden in it, huh?’ the freighter challenged, but his right hand dropped away from the proximity of the Merwin & Hulbert Army Pocket revolver and there was a suggestion of admiration in his tone.
‘If there ain’t, I’ll take up fiving with your “Chinees”,’ Calamity stated, then grinned and waved her right hand in a placatory gesture. ‘Aw hell, Jebediah, don’t go getting into a tizz. It don’t mean spit to me what we’re toting, just so long’s I’m paid good enough for the chances I’m taking. Which means I’ll be wanting more’n I was getting often that tight-butted old bastard, Dobe Killem.’
‘You’ll get it,’ Lincoln promised, considering the retention of the red head’s services would be worth the extra wages. Not only had she proved far more capable than any man he had been able to hire, she was sufficiently well known to help divert suspicion from him. He had already decided that provided she satisfied him that she was willing to participate in gun-running, he would notify die Fleischer she would be well worth whatever it cost to retain her. ‘We’re toting two hundred and fifty Henrys and “old yellowboys”, with twenty-five thousand bullets for them, in special trays let into the beds of the wagons. They’re not for our Indians, though.’
‘I don’t give a damn whose son-of-a-bitching Injuns they’re for,’ Calamity declared, wanting to convey the impression that she was unaware the weapons were to be delivered to Arnaud Cavallier’s Metis. ‘What’s worrying me is how do we make sure they don’t blow our fool heads off with ’em as soon’s they’re handed over.’
‘There’s no danger of that,’ Lincoln said emphatically. ‘Apart from one of each I’ll shoot off for them, all the rest’ve had their toggle links took off. Those’re kept separate and won’t be handed over until we’re well away.’ Pleased by the girl’s air of puzzlement, he elaborated, ‘The links’re in a box in my wagon and I’ll hide it some place at least a day before we meet up with them. Then I’ll bring one, or maybe two of them back to collect it.’
‘Whee-doggie!’ Calamity enthused, with what appeared to be genuine admiration. ‘That’s right smart figuring on your part.’
‘It pays to be smart,’ the freighter replied, delighted by the response. ‘Now are you satisfied?’
‘Near on,’ the red head affirmed. ‘ ’Cepting for one thing, you’ve told me all I need to know.’
‘What else do you want to know?’ Lincoln asked.
‘How much extra pay’m I going to get?’ Calamity explained, although she doubted whether she would remain in her new employment for long enough to receive the money. She also wondered what action the Rebel Spy and the Remittance Kid would take when she told them where the arms and ammunition were hidden. ‘Anyways, you’ll have plenty of time to tell me that. Right now, we’d best be getting back to the fire else “Mrs. Roxby’ll” be getting bad notions about us.’
Chapter Thirteen – Tomorrow’s the Day
‘Poor blighter,’ Captain Patrick Reeder thought, standing concealed behind the trunk of a balsam poplar tree. He was peering through the darkness of the woodland to where, in the center of a triangle formed by a patch of common juniper shrubs and two fair sized pussywillows, Jebediah Lincoln was watching the youngest of the three Chinamen digging a hole in which to bury the box they had brought from the camp. ‘I hate to see so much effort being expended for nothing,’
Having realized that the attire of a professional gambler would be unsuitable for wearing if Belle Boyd, Calamity Jane and he were compelled to accompany the wagons, the Remittance Kid had made purchases of more acceptable raiment before leaving Stokeley. He had retained only the hat and boots, replacing the other garments with a waist length brown leather jacket, an open necked dark blue and green plaid shirt of heavy-napped woolen Mackinaw cloth and Levi’s pants. The badik and his Webley Royal Irish Constabulary revolver were still carried in their usual fashion. However, for the work upon which he was engaged at that moment, he had left the Stetson behind and exchanged his footwear for a pair of moccasins which had allowed him to move far more quietly.
Under the prevailing conditions, such silence was imperative!
Ten days of uneventful travel had elapsed since Calamity Jane’s discussion with Lincoln. While the four wagons were on the move, Arnaud Cavallier and “Matthew Devlin” had ridden ahead ostensibly to select the route, find camping grounds in which to spend the night and hunt to provide the party with fresh meat. Employing the latter as an excuse when they had returned empty handed on the fourth evening, the Kid had gone out alone and found evidence suggesting they were primarily concerned in following a trail blazed by the two Metis whose arrival at Stokeley had caused the conspirators to set off. He had already deduced they had brought the news that all was going according to plan on the Canadian side of the border and, having delivered it, returned to rejoin the rest of le Loup-Garou’s adherents at some pre-arranged rendezvous.
Although Calamity had informed the Rebel Spy and the Englishman that her suppositions over the consignment of arms and ammunition were correct, they had not yet taken any steps to prevent it from being delivered.
In the course of a discussion prior to setting off, the red head had stated that the most obvious solution if the consignment was not on the wagons at Stokeley
would be to go along until it was collected, then compel the conspirators to return and be handed over to the authorities. Belle and the Kid had pointed out the objections to carrying out her advice.
In the first place, there was no law which said Lincoln could not transport the arms and ammunition. If challenged, he would undoubtedly be able to produce documents establishing he had a legal right to do so. He could claim they were picked up secretly and carried concealed as a precaution against anybody discovering he was carrying such a valuable cargo. Nor would he be breaking any law as – so the trio believed – his customers were to be Metis and not Indians.
Furthermore, the reasons Belle and the Kid had given earlier for not having Vera Gorr-Kauphin, Cavallier and “Devlin” arrested and sent to stand trial for their crimes in Chicago were still applicable.
When the Kid had commented upon the possible difficulties involved in attempting to enforce the compulsion to return upon the “hunting party”, Calamity had suggested – although not in the exact words – that these would not be insurmountable. She had said that, as long as they had the element of surprise on their side, they ought to be able to get the drop on the opposition. Nor, she had declared, were the odds too greatly against them. She had estimated that there would only be le Loup-Garou, “Devlin”, Lincoln and whatever drivers survived the brawl in the Worn Out Tie Saloon to worry about and felt certain neither the actress nor the three Chinamen would cause any trouble.
Being aware that they might find the need to act upon the red head’s suggestions, the Kid had studied the composition of the “hunting party” since joining it. While inclined to agree with most of her summations, having had a far greater experience with Orientals had caused him to warn her via Belle that the trio could prove a far greater hazard than she had anticipated.