Young Ole Devil

by J. T. Edson

  ‘What the hell—?’ Soapy ejaculated, glaring from Verde to Mucker.

  ‘It must have two barrels!’ the vaquero answered, although he had a suspicion that was incorrect. ‘Keep going, if s empty now!’

  As double-barreled rifles were not uncommon, Soapy and Mucker were inclined to accept Verde’s solution. However, they were puzzled to see Ole Devil was still lining the rifle. So was the vaquero, but his thoughts on the matter ended in consternation as he realized that the strange weapon was being directed towards him. Before he could do anything to save himself, it spoke again. Shot in the head, he crumpled from his horse and was dead by the time his body struck the ground.

  ‘What the hell kind of gun’s that?’ Mucker wailed, trying to slow down his racing horse.

  ‘Come on!’ Soapy ordered, being made of sterner stuff than his lanky companion. ‘It must be empty now.’

  Seeing that the last two men were not turning aside, as he had hoped they would, Ole Devil made ready to deal with them. He took no pleasure in what he was having to do, but knew he had no other choice. Not only were the approaching pair traitors to Texas, but neither of them would hesitate to kill him, or the girl, if they were given the chance. Should they capture the girl after disposing of him, her fate was likely to be worse than a quick death.

  Operating the mechanism of the Browning, Ole Devil turned its barrel towards Soapy. While Mucker was doing as his companion had ordered, he showed less resolution and was allowing the other man to draw ahead.

  Finding himself the object of their intended victim’s attentions, Soapy thrust out and sighted his pistol as well as he could from the back of his galloping mount He stood up on his stirrup irons, letting the empty rifle slip from under his leg, in an attempt to form a steadier base for his efforts. Fifty yards was a long range for a hand-gun, but he had seen sufficient of the Texian’s marksmanship not to chance holding his fire until he was closer. The pistol bellowed and the sound coming so close to the horse’s ear caused it to swerve.

  Although the bullet threw up dirt between Old Devil’s feet without harming him, the shot was not entirely wasted. Squeezing the rifle’s trigger, he saw his target swing aside and, being too late to prevent the discharge, knew that he had missed.

  Thrusting down on the lever with his right thumb, Ole Devil switched his aim to Mucker as the magazine crept onwards to position the final chamber in front of the barrel’s bore. The lanky man might be allowing his companion to take the lead, but he still held a loaded weapon. Ignoring Soapy, the Texian turned loose his last available bullet Attempting to steer his mount so as to put Soapy between them, Mucker caught the lead in his right shoulder. Screeching in agony, he lost his balance and toppled from the saddle.

  That still left Soapy!

  Seeing that he had missed with his pistol, he regained control of his horse and sent it tearing onwards. Hurling the empty weapon ahead of him, he saw Ole Devil fend it off with the barrel of the rifle. Reaching for one of the pistols which were hanging in their holsters from his saddlehorn, he knew that he would need time to open the flap and draw it Guiding the horse straight at the Texian, so as to ride him down, Soapy hoped to gain it Just a moment too late, he realized that the ‘boy’ was raising a pistol in both hands and lining it at him.

  ‘Take him, Di!’ Ole Devil yelled as he threw himself aside, hoping that the girl would at least be able to create a diversion.

  Even as the Texian moved and shouted, he heard the deep-throated boom of a pistol. Looking up, he saw Soapy’s head slam back and the hat flying from it. The speeding horse missed Ole Devil by inches as it passed between him and the girl. Its rider’s lifeless body was already starting to slide from its back as it went by.

  After glancing to where Mucker was sprawled face down and motionless, having been knocked unconscious when he landed from the fall, Ole Devil turned his gaze to Di. She was lowering the smoking Manton pistol and did not appear to be distressed, or even greatly concerned by having had to kill a man.

  However, as it had been because of him that her life had been endangered, the Texian doubted whether his standing with her grandfather would be improved.

  Chapter Eleven – He Wants ’Em And He Came First

  ‘Grandpappy Ewart, this here’s Cap’n Hardin,’ Diamond-Hitch Charlotte Jane Martha Brindley announced, leading the way into the sparsely furnished main room of her home. ‘He’s come over from San Antone with a message from General Sam-’

  The introduction came to an end as the girl realized that her grandfather was not alone.

  Without having waited to discuss what had happened, Di and Ole Devil Hardin had made sure that they had nothing further to fear from their attackers. Arnaldo Verde, Soapy and Al had all been dead. However, on examining Mucker, the girl had stated that, while he was still unconscious, his wound was not too serious and he would live. Then she had requested to be told why the quartet had attacked them, only now her opinion of Ole Devil was so improved that she spoke without making it a demand.

  Noticing the change which had come over the girl, Ole Devil had given a full explanation. On learning that he believed the two attacks were attempts to prevent him from reaching her grandfather and being told the purpose of the visit, she had said they should question their captive on his recovery. Ole Devil had agreed that such would be their best line of action.

  Looking a trifle sheepish, Di had thanked the Texian for saving her from the bear and he had returned the compliment with regard to Soapy. Neither of them had referred to the spanking which had been the unfortunate aftermath of her rescue. Instead, she had offered to have the men she would be sending from the ranch to collect the bear’s carcass bring in the three bodies for burial at the same time.

  Accepting the girl’s offer, Ole Devil had agreed with her further suggestion that he went to see if he could catch some of the horses while she attended to Mucker’s wound. On being asked if she would be safe, she had requested the means to reload the Manton pistol and, with it done, had declared that she could ‘chill the ornery son-of-a-bitch’s milk happen he woke up feeling feisty.’ Confident that she could do so if it should become necessary, Ole Devil had mounted the dun and set off. Neither the horse he had been riding nor Di’s tobiano gelding were in view, so he went after and succeeded in retrieving the mounts of the three white renegades. Verde’s horse had been nowhere to be seen and he had not wasted time searching for it On his return, he had found that Mucker was still unconscious but Di had done a very competent job of bandaging the wounded shoulder.

  While they were waiting for Mucker to recover so that he could be questioned, Ole Devil had searched the bodies. He had found nothing, but put off on examination of their bed-rolls until he and the girl had arrived at her home. Di had gathered up the second Manton pistol and her rifle. On checking the latter to find out why it had failed her, she had concluded that the powder in the frizzen pan must have slipped away from the vent hole so that, when it was ignited, the flame had not reached the main charge in the barrel. After she had commented on the matter to Ole Devil, they had reached an amicable agreement about how they should address each other.

  When Mucker had regained consciousness—he had been in a state of shock although neither of his captors had identified it by such a name—incoherent and unable to answer questions. Di had suggested that they took him back to the ranch and let him rest until the following morning. He had been barely able to sit his horse and had had to be tied on the saddle.

  During the journey, Ole Devil had satisfied the girl’s curiosity regarding the Browning rifle. They had also found his borrowed horse standing with its reins tangled in a bush. On arriving at the ranch, without having seen Di’s tobiano, they discovered the corrals and barn to be deserted. Hearing a lot of noise from the cook shack, she had decided that the hired hands were having their suppers. Having no wish to disturb the men, she had suggested they should deliver Houston’s message to her grandfather. Securing their prisoner had been no problem, even
if his physical condition had been less enfeebled. The Blind-leys’ cook, an aged Tejas Indian called Waldo, occasionally went on a drinking bout. To prevent him from causing trouble—liquor had that effect on him—they had had a storeroom in the barn fitted with a sturdy door and strong iron bars at the window. Leaving the key in the lock—having placed Mucker on Waldo’s bed—so that the cook could fetch him some coffee, Di had accompanied Ole Devil to the house.

  Following the girl into the room, so that she could introduce him before going to make arrangements for feeding and guarding Mucker and having the bear and bodies collected, Ole Devil looked at the two men who were sitting on the only two remaining chairs at the table. He did not need to be told which of them was the girl’s grandfather. Nor did he need to seek an explanation for the meager nature of the furnishings. According to the girl, the majority of their portable property had already been sent to the east

  Ewart Brindley was not much taller than Di’s five foot seven, but made up in breadth for what he lacked in height. Despite his age, he looked as hard and fit as a man much below his years. Almost bald, with his remaining hair a grizzled white, his leathery, sun-reddened face suggested not so much a bad temper but one which, like his granddaughter’s, was quick and high. He was dressed in much the same way as the girl, with a bowie knife hanging from his belt. There was a spectacle case on the table in front of him.

  Matching Ole Devil in height and build, the other occupant of the room would be in his mid-thirties, had dark brown hair and was suavely handsome. He was dressed in expensive, if travel-strained, riding clothes of the style much fancied by wealthy French Creoles in Louisiana. A shining black, silver-headed walking cane lay with his white ‘planter’s’ hat on the table and he did not appear to be armed. He had stood up when Di entered, but had turned his gaze to Ole Devil when he had heard the name she mentioned.

  ‘Howdy there,’ Brindley greeted, his voice having a kind of high and harsh tone, also subjecting the young Texian to an interested scrutiny. ‘Wha’d you say, Di—gal?’

  ‘Cap’n Hardin’s brought you a message from General Houston,’ the girl answered, daring a curious and interrogatory glance at the handsome visitor. ‘Set ’n’ take the weight off your feet, mister—?’

  ‘Now what’d General Sam be wanting from me, young feller? Brindley inquired, ignoring what he had known to be his granddaughters hint about the identity of the man at the table and the reason for his presence.

  ‘It’s a confidential matter, sir,’ Ole Devil replied, flickering a look to where there other visitor was sitting.

  ‘Happen you’ve come about using my mules,’ Brindley drawled and jerked a thumb in the well-dressed visitor’s direction. ‘Mr. Galsworthy here, he wants ’em and he came first.’

  Having delivered the information, the old man settled back on his chair and eyed the young Texian in a challenging fashion. Clearly he was waiting to discover how his news would be received.

  Knowing that the correct response could be vital, Ole Devil thought fast. Possibly Brindley was anticipating a demand that the General’s requirements should be given priority over private business. Or he might be expecting an appeal to his patriotism. Remembering Houston’s comments regarding Brindley’s contrary nature, Ole Devil felt certain that neither was the way to handle the situation.

  ‘That’s between you and Mr. Galsworthy, sir,’ the Texian stated, meeting the old man’s gaze without flinching and pleased with the opportunity to watch for evidence of how his words were being received. ‘But I hope that you’ll be willing to read the General’s letter.’

  ‘You couldn’t ask for nothing fairer than that,’ Brindley declared, although his face showed nothing of his feelings. He turned his eyes to the second visitor and went on, ‘What do you reckon, Mr. Galsworthy?’

  ‘Well, sir,’ the handsome man replied and, despite his style of dress, he spoke with the accent of a well-educated citizen of Boston. There was a hint of icy arrogance in his voice, as if he was used to giving orders and having them carried out unhesitatingly. ‘As I told you, my property is valuable and I’m willing to pay a high price to have it transported east. But, if General Houston needs your mules for some official purpose, I’m willing to withdraw any claim I might have on them. After all, the Republic of Texas must come first’

  ‘Be it official business they’re wanted for, Cap’n Hardin?’ Brindley asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Ole Devil confirmed and gave his attention to Galsworthy, noticing that the other seemed to be avoiding looking him in the eyes. ‘Thank you, sir. That’s generous of you.’

  ‘I’m merely doing my duty as I see it, captain,’ Galsworthy answered and once again stood up. Taking his hat and cane from the table, he continued, ‘As your business is confidential, I’ll wait outside.’

  ‘Ain’t no call to sit out on the porch, mister,’ Brindley remarked. Hey, Di-gal, seeing’s how Waldo’s off feeding the boys, how’s about taking this gent into the kitchen and giving him a cup of coffee while I find out what General Sam wants?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ the girl assented cheerfully. ‘Come on, Mr. Galsworthy and I’ll tend to it. You want I should fetch some in for you and Fancy Pants, Grandpappy Ewart?’

  ‘How about it—cap’n?’ Brindley asked, having turned a speculative gaze on the Texian when his granddaughter had used the sobriquet

  ‘I’d admire to take a cup, Miss Charlotte,’ Ole Devil confirmed and watched the old man’s head swivel rapidly between himself and Di in what would one day become known as a ‘double take’. ‘Black with sugar.’

  ‘How many times do you want it stirred and shall I blow on it to cool it down?’ the girl grinned. ‘That’s what you’re used to, I’d reckon.’

  ‘No, ma’am,’ Ole Devil contradicted, watching Brindley’s reaction to the by-play. ‘My folks brought me up to be self-reliant and always made me blow on my own.’

  ‘Allus did like a self-reliant feller,’ Di drawled. ‘Come on, Mr. Galsworthy.’

  ‘Well I’ll be hornswoggled!’ Brindley ejaculated, after his granddaughter and Galsworthy had left the room closing the door behind them. ‘She was like to bust the last feller’s called her “Charlotte’s” jaw-bone.’

  ‘We came to an agreement soon after we met, sir,’ Ole Devil explained cheerfully and truthfully, sensing that his host was impressed. ‘Arranged that I wouldn’t object to her calling me “Fancy Pants” once in a while and she’d let me use her given name in return.’

  ‘Sit down, damn it, young feller,’ Brindley requested and there was more than a hint of respect in his cracked old voice. ‘Let’s take a look at what Sam’s got to be writing about.’

  Reaching to the front of his shirt, as he took the seat which Galsworthy had vacated, Ole Devil produced a thin oilskin wallet from his inside pocket. Extracting the letter which Houston had given to him, he passed it to the old man. Brindley opened the flap of the envelope, took out the sheet of paper and spread it before him on the table. Then he removed the spectacles from the case and donned them. With his lips moving and silently mouthing the words, he started to read. On coming to the paragraph about Ole Devil, he lifted his eyes and looked at die object of the comments for a moment. Then he finished the letter.

  ‘General Sam seems to set a whole lot of store on getting these rifles, young feller,’ the old man commented as he removed his spectacles and leaned back.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Ole Devil replied. ‘Like he says, they could make a lot of difference when the time comes for us to take our stand against Santa Anna in open battle.’

  ‘Likely,’ Brindley grunted in a non-committal tone. ‘How’d you aim to go about doing it?’

  Well, sir,’ Ole Devil answered, sensing a challenge and selecting his words with care. ‘Before I decide on that, I’d like to know whether you’d be willing to do as the General asks?’

  ‘And just supposing I am?

  ‘Then the problem’s at least partly solved, sir.’

  ‘How do
you mean, partly solved? Brindley demanded. ‘You reckon I can’t handle it, or something?’

  ‘No, sir,’ Ole Devil assured his host, whose tone had been prickly with indignation. ‘It’s just that the situation has changed.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘The Mexicans know about the shipment’

  ‘The hell you say!’ Brindley ejaculated. He glared at the letter, which had explained why it had not been felt necessary to send a military guard. ‘How’d that happened?

  ‘I’ve no idea, sir,’ Ole Devil confessed. ‘The General and I were alone when we made the arrangements. We thought that as only he and I—or so we assumed—knew how I was hoping to make the collection, I wouldn’t need a escort if you agreed to handle it. Then I was jumped by a bunch of renegades before I’d reached Guadalupe. We downed two, but the rest got away—’

  ‘We?’

  ‘I had a man with me, sir. But I sent him back to warn the General that there’s a spy at his headquarters.’

  ‘You did right there,’ Brindley praised. ‘It’s something he should know. Are you sure that’s why they jumped you?’

  ‘Near enough, sir,’ Ole Devil replied. While speaking, he had continued to watch his host’s face. The examination was not particularly fruitful, for the leathery features were showing as little of Brindley’s feelings as Houston’s had during the earlier stages of the interview in his office. Which did nothing to make him more at ease as he realized that he was approaching the point where he would have to admit he had already placed the old timer’s granddaughter in considerable danger. However, he also guessed that it would be advisable to let Brindley learn about the incident from him. The four who got away were waiting and jumped me just after I’d met Di.’

  ‘They try red hard to do it?’ the old man growled.