Drummond Takes a Hand

by Alan Irwin

  ‘Damnation!’ said Curtis. ‘Just when we were getting ready for a big operation. They were both fools. I told them not to get into any trouble while they were away. This man Drummond. What’s he like?’

  Frost gave him a fairly accurate description of Will, then changed the subject.

  ‘Looks like Brent ain’t turned up yet,’ he said.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Curtis. ‘I’m counting on him getting here soon. We need him and his men more than ever now. Have you got any more news about that big gold shipment?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Frost replied. ‘I think it might be passing through around a couple of weeks from now. As soon as I have anything definite, I’ll let you know. I’d best be getting back now.’

  Will saw Frost leave the ravine and head back towards him. He hid with his horse in a small nearby gully until Frost had passed. Then he returned to his previous position, and through his field-glasses, he carefully surveyed the area around the hide-out. He was looking for a place where he could hide and keep the inside of the ravine under fairly close observation. The most promising place was a large patch of brush located at the top of the wall of the ravine, well away from the look-out’s position.

  An hour later, it was dark enough for Will to start riding towards the hide-out. Keeping well away from the look-out post, he located the patch of brush. It was tall and thick enough for his purpose, and from it he could see the faint light showing through a window of the shack.

  He looked round for a place where he could hide his horse, and found a small gully nearby which was suitable. He had a meal there, using provisions he had brought with him. Then he rested until half an hour before dawn, when he walked with his field-glasses to the brush patch, leaving his picketed horse behind him. He chose a place in the brush from which he had a clear view of the shack and the lookout point.

  When the light improved sufficiently he could see the look-out standing against the boulder. At eight o’clock a man appeared in view and walked over to relieve the look-out, who went into the shack. Through his glasses, Will was able to see that neither of these men was Luke Brent. A little later, a third man came out briefly to pick up some pieces of timber. But once again, it was not Brent. During the rest of the day the two men first spotted by Will, continued to act as look-out, relieving each other at four-hour intervals. Will guessed that the third man, who appeared outside the shack now and then, was the leader of the gang. And unless Brent was, for some reason, not leaving the shack, it appeared that he was not at the hide-out. When darkness fell, Will returned to his horse, and took some supper. He had decided to continue watching the hide-out during the daytime, in the hope that Luke Brent would turn up shortly.

  He kept watch for the next three days, during which he saw no sign of Luke Brent. By then he had run out of provisions, and as he walked back to his horse in the darkness, he decided to ride to Laringo for supplies, then return before daybreak to resume his watch.

  The sky was overcast as he walked into the gully and up to his horse, speaking softly to it as he approached. As he walked behind the animal, he felt a sudden premonition of danger. But it came too late. Pistol-whipped on the head by the man hiding on the other side of his mount, he fell to the ground. When he came to a few minutes later, his hands were tightly bound, and his six-gun had been taken from its holster. Shakily, he rose to his feet.

  ‘I’m taking a ride, and you’re taking a walk behind me,’ said Tobin, the man in front of him. ‘Try anything foolish, and I’ll gun you down.’

  Tobin was a member of the Curtis gang on his way to rejoin the others at the hide-out, after a brief visit to relatives in South Texas. He held the free end of the length of rope binding Will’s hands, and walked out of the gully, leading Will and his horse. When he reached the place where he had hidden his own mount, he climbed into the saddle, tied the rope he was holding to the pommel, and led Will and his horse towards the position of the look-out.

  When he was within hailing distance, Tobin called out to identify himself, saying he had a prisoner with him. Lester, standing near the boulder, told him to go on in. When they arrived at the shack, Curtis and Jackson were inside, taking supper. Tobin picketed the two horses, keeping a close watch on Will. Then he led the prisoner to the door of the shack, and called out to identify himself before opening the door and pushing Will inside in front of him. Seated at a rickety table, Curtis and Jackson stared in surprise at Tobin’s prisoner.

  ‘Look what I found,’ said Tobin, ‘in a gully close to here. When I was riding in just before dark I spotted a horse in the gully, but no sign of the owner. So I waited for him to turn up. I figure maybe he’s been spying on you. D’you know him?’

  The two men seated at the table both shook their heads.

  ‘He’s a stranger to me,’ said Curtis, but then realized that the prisoner could be, from Frost’s description, the man called Drummond who had killed Lloyd and Randle at the homestead. But even if he were that man, how did he come to be here, and why would he be spying on the hide-out?

  He took Tobin outside, and told him about the deaths of Lloyd and Randle. He said there was a possibility that the prisoner might be the man who had killed them. They went back inside, and Curtis spoke to Will.

  ‘You like to tell us just what you’re doing here?’ he asked.

  ‘Just happened by,’ said Will. ‘I’m heading for Fort Worth. Was figuring to camp out in the gully for the night. Went out to look for some firewood, but there weren’t none to be found nearby. My name’s Carson.’

  Curtis told Tobin to search Will, but this produced no evidence as to his identity.

  ‘I think you’re lying,’ said Curtis, ‘and there’s one way I can find out for sure. Meanwhile you’ll be staying here.’

  He took Jackson outside, and told him that the prisoner might be the killer of Lloyd and Randle. He told him to ride to Laringo and ask Frost to come out as soon as he could, in order to tell them whether the prisoner was Drummond or not.

  When Jackson reached Laringo he went into Frost’s office, and gave him the message.

  ‘It could be him,’ said Frost. ‘I ain’t seen him around since yesterday. I’m busy just now, but I should be able to ride out late in the afternoon.’

  As Jackson was leaving the telegraph office, Anne Kincaid was walking along the other side of the street. Jackson was a stranger to her, and she wondered, idly, what he was doing in town. She saw him mount his horse and ride off to the east.

  When Frost reached the hide-out later, night was falling. The look-out told him to knock at the cabin door, then wait outside. When he had done this, Curtis came out, and stayed with Frost while Will was blindfolded. Then the two men went inside, and Frost looked at Will. He nodded his head and went outside again with Curtis.

  ‘That’s Drummond all right,’ he said. ‘What in blazes brought him here?’

  ‘That’s what I’m wondering,’ said Curtis. ‘We’ve got—’ He broke off as he heard the distant sound of voices coming from the direction of the look-out position. ‘Sounds like we have a visitor,’ he said.

  They waited, and it was not long before they saw a rider approaching them. As he stopped and dismounted, both men recognised Luke Brent.

  ‘We’d near given you up,’ said Curtis. ‘And I didn’t figure you’d turn up on your own. Where are those three men of yours?’

  Quickly, Brent told Curtis of the intention of himself and his father to force the homesteaders out of the valley where the Diamond B was located. Then he went on to describe the complete and disastrous failure of their plan, and the consequent loss of all three of his men.

  ‘We’ve had a bit of a setback ourselves,’ said Curtis. ‘Randle and Lloyd were killed not far from here, on their way back to the hide-out. They called at a homestead, aiming to steal a horse, but a stranger called Drummond, who happened to call there at the time, gunned them both down.’

  ‘That’s quite a coincidence,’ said Brent. ‘The man who organized the h
omesteaders to beat us in Wyoming was called Drummond as well. It seems he was just a drifter who happened along and sided with them.’

  ‘Well,’ said Curtis, ‘it so happens we’ve got the Drummond who killed Lloyd and Randle tied up inside the shack. Frost just identified him. He’s blindfolded. Didn’t want him to know Frost was helping us.’

  ‘I’d best be leaving,’ said the telegraph operator. ‘I’ve heard nothing about that gold shipment yet. Are you still interested?’

  ‘Right now, we ain’t got enough men to do the job,’ said Curtis, ‘but I think I know where I can get some more to make up the numbers. So let us know when you have any definite information.’

  Frost rode off, and the two outlaws entered the shack, with Curtis in the lead. When Brent saw the blindfolded prisoner, his chin dropped and his eyebrows shot up. He grabbed the arm of Curtis, and led him outside.

  ‘Well I’m damned!’ he said. ‘That’s the same Drummond we were up against in Wyoming. I just can’t figure out how he comes to be down here. Has he talked yet?’

  ‘Before Frost identified him,’ Curtis replied, ‘he said his name was Carson, and that he was on his way to Fort Worth when we picked him up.’

  ‘We’ve got to find out why he turned up here,’ said Brent. ‘Is he after me, and if so, why? And does anybody else know about the hide-out? We’ve got to get the truth out of him before we kill him, and I guess it ain’t going to be easy.’

  The two men went inside, and the blindfold was taken off the prisoner. Seeing Brent, Will knew that his hunch had been correct. Brent spoke to him.

  ‘What we want to know, Drummond,’ he said, ‘is your reason for being here, and how it was you managed to find this hide-out. Whatever it takes, we’ll get the truth out of you, but maybe you’d like to do it the easy way, and tell us right now.’

  Hoping that a chance to escape might turn up, and knowing that he was due to die whether he told the truth or not, Will decided to stick to his previous story, while admitting giving a false name.

  ‘After we’d put things right in Wyoming,’ he said, ‘I headed out to visit kinfolk at Fort Worth. I didn’t have no choice about shooting down the two men at the homestead, and when I was picked up here, I used the name Carson in case the two men had been heading for this place.’

  ‘Not good enough,’ said Brent. ‘We’ll have to get the truth out of you the hard way.’

  He turned to Curtis. ‘Is there an axe and a shovel around?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure,’ replied Curtis, ‘standing in the corner there.’

  ‘Good,’ said Brent. ‘What we’ll do tomorrow then, is visit that grove I passed a little while back, and cut the timber for three poles. Then we’ll plant two of them outside the shack and fasten the third across the tops. We’ll bind Drummond’s hands and feet, and ties his hands to the cross-pole. We’ll leave him hanging there at full stretch, without food and water. It’s something I’ve tried before. It shouldn’t be all that long before we get the truth out of him.’

  Will, bound hand a foot, spent the night lying on the floor of the shack. In the morning, Brent and Jackson rode out to the grove, and brought back the roughly-fashioned poles. They set two of them firmly in the ground, four feet apart, and fastened the third to the tops of the others. Then they brought Will out of the shack and tied him to the horizontal pole so that he was hanging fully stretched, with his feet six inches above the ground.

  ‘Just sing out when you feel like telling the truth, Drummond,’ said Brent, before disappearing into the shack with Jackson.

  Will, his body gently swaying and turning in the breeze, could see no possibility of escape, unaided, while he was suspended this way. The strain on his arms was beginning to tell, and he knew that no food or drink would be given to him. The outlook was not good.

  Returning from a visit to one of her brother’s patients out of town, two days after Will had been captured, Anne Kincaid drove a buggy up to the livery stable in Laringo, where the horse and buggy were kept. As she stepped down from the buggy, Mason, the liveryman, came out to greet her. At the same time, a stranger who had just ridden into town stopped close by. He was a cheerful-looking man in his thirties, average in size, wearing a Montana peak hat. He smiled amiably at Anne and Mason.

  ‘Howdy, folks,’ he said, tipping the brim of his hat to Anne. ‘I’m looking for a friend of mine called Will Drummond. Heard he might be here. Happen you’ve met him?’

  Mason looked at Anne, then spoke to the stranger. ‘You know him pretty well?’ he asked.

  ‘We go back a long way,’ the stranger replied. ‘I’m Roy Dillon. Will and his brother Clint and myself all worked together as lawmen for a spell in Kansas. The three of us were pretty close. Then I moved to Amarillo a few years back and started running a general store. It’s doing pretty well. A few days ago, a friend of mine in the Texas Rangers told me that Clint had been killed by Luke Brent, and that Will had come down here looking for the killer. I left a friend running the store, and rode here to see if I could help.’

  ‘We’re sure glad to see you,’ said Anne. ‘My name’s Anne Kincaid. Will Drummond saved me when I was in real trouble, and now he’s gone missing. We’re worried about what might have happened to him.’

  She and Mason then gave Roy an account of events since Will’s arrival in the area.

  ‘When he left town to follow Frost,’ said Anne, ‘he didn’t have enough provisions to last until now, and he told us he’d come back here whether or not he found what he was looking for. So I’m worried something’s happened to him. I was going to speak to my brother and ask if he could get one or two men from town to join him in a search for Mr Drummond.’

  ‘He can count me in, Anne,’ said the liveryman.

  ‘Better to leave it to me,’ said Roy. ‘I reckon a man riding alone would stand a better chance of finding Will. Have you any idea at all where Frost was going when Will followed him?’

  ‘He was heading east,’ said Mason, ‘and judging by the length of time he was away, and allowing for him staying with the gang for about thirty minutes, I’d say the hide-out was between thirteen and fifteen miles from here, to the east. That’s if he didn’t change direction after he’d left here.’

  ‘Well, that’s something to go on,’ said Roy. ‘I’ll have a meal, get me some provisions, then I’ll ride off to the east and see what turns up.’

  Anne and Mason wished Roy success in his search. He had a meal, then bought some provisions at the general store. As he was leaving it, Mason hurried up to him.

  ‘You’re in luck,’ he said. ‘Frost just picked up his horse.’ He pointed along the street. ‘You can see him leaving town, heading east. There’s a chance he’s going to the hide-out.’

  Roy thanked Mason, the liveryman, and followed Frost, employing exactly the same tactics which Will had used. Eventually, from cover, and using field-glasses, he watched Frost speak to the look-out and enter the ravine.

  When Frost reached the hide-out shack, he told Curtis and Brent that he had firm information that a Wells Fargo express wagon, with armed guards on board, would be passing through Amarillo in a southerly direction in six days’ time. It would be carrying a gold shipment of considerable value. He gave details of the route to be followed by the wagon.

  When Frost left, the two outlaws discussed the possibility of robbing the wagon.

  ‘We’re a bit short on men now,’ said Curtis, ‘and we ain’t got the time to get hold of any more. But I reckon it’s too good a chance to turn down. What d’you think?’

  ‘I know one man I might be able to get quick,’ said Brent, ‘and a good man at that. He’s a cousin of mine. He’s called Wilson. Spends most of his time playing crooked poker, but he’s helped me out now and then. If I can get him I reckon we can safely rob the express wagon. I’m pretty sure that right now he’s in a town only twenty-five miles south of here. If I start off right now, we’ll be back here tomorrow.’

  Curtis agreed with Brent’s sug
gestion, so Brent left shortly after Frost’s departure but by a different route, so was not seen by Roy.

  Roy continued watching from cover until Frost reappeared twenty minutes later, and rode past him on his way to Laringo in the gathering darkness. Then Roy rode on towards the ravine and found a place close to the patch of brush from which Will had kept watch on the hide-out in the ravine below. He could see that a lamp was burning inside the shack. Continuing to watch, he settled down to wait for a few hours. Around midnight, he saw the shack door open and a man come out, closing the door behind him. Ten minutes later a man opened the door of the shack and went inside. Roy guessed that the look-out had just been relieved.

  He waited a further half-hour, then made his way slowly down the sloping side of the ravine to the bottom. The shack was now between him and the look-out position. Cautiously, he moved forward, passing a picket line with five horses tied to it. As he drew near to the shack, he saw the dim outlines of two posts standing a little way from the side of it, with something swinging in between them. He paused for a few minutes, then moved up to the posts. He could now see that a man was suspended from a cross-pole above. He was sure he had found his friend. This was confirmed when he walked up close, looked up at the prisoner’s face, and spoke softly to him.

  ‘Will,’ he said. ‘This is Roy.’

  Will, hanging in extreme discomfort, with his eyes closed, thought for a moment that he was dreaming. Then he heard the words repeated. He opened his eyes and saw Roy in front of him.

  ‘Roy,’ he said faintly. ‘Am I glad to see you. There are three men in the shack and one look-out.’

  ‘Let me get you down,’ said Roy, and looked round for something which would raise him high enough to be able to cut the rope just above Will’s hands. He soon found a short section of tree trunk which had been used as a chopping block. He placed it in position and stood on it, then reached up with his knife to sever the rope. Will, suddenly realizing what was happening, shook his head, and spoke to him urgently.