Young Ole Devil

by J. T. Edson

  ‘Here, Di, take mine!’ Ole Devil ordered, thrusting the Browning rifle towards the girl. ‘I’ll go after her!’

  Realizing what was expected of her, Di let go of the powder horn and her flintlock. Ignoring the empty weapon as it fell from her hand, she accepted the Browning. Ole Devil had taught her how to use it on the first night of their journey and she understood its mysteries. A glance assured her that he had made it ready to fire, the position of the magazine bar in the aperture supplying the information.

  Confident that the girl could defend herself, or give him covering fire if the vaqueros returned, Ole Devil turned and ran to the waiting horses. Catching hold of the dun’s saddlehorn, he vaulted astride its back. He had gathered up the reins in passing and gave a jerk which liberated those of his reserve mount. Having done so, he sent the dun bounding forward.

  ‘Go get her, Devil!’ Di whooped as the Texian went by. ‘I’ll stop them from billing in.’

  Urging his mount to go faster, Ole Devil heard the girl’s encouraging words but did not attempt to acknowledge them. Instead, he concentrated his attention upon the woman and guided the dun at an angle which would bring them together.

  ‘Look at that damned black go!’ Di ejaculated. ‘She’s right lucky that she can ride so good the way it’s running.’

  Much the same thought was passing through Ole Devil’s head as he was approaching the woman. Although the black was running at a gallop and, as he could see now, there was a rope knotted around her black gauntlet covered wrists, she was retaining her seat on the sidesaddle with considerable skill. The jolting which she was receiving had caused the hat to slide from her brunette head and dangle by its barbiquejo on her shoulders. It allowed him his first unimpeded view of her face. Flushed by the pounding she was taking from the saddle, her features were beautiful. They topped what the riding habit could not conceal, a very shapely figure. She would, he guessed, be about Di’s height and in her early thirties. However, there were other matters of even greater importance than her appearance to be considered.

  With each successive sequence of the dun’s galloping gait bearing him closer to the woman, Ole Devil started to think about how he might bring about the rescue. He discarded the idea of trying to come alongside and lift her from the saddle. Approaching as he was from her right, she had her legs hidden from his view. Having fastened her hands behind her back, the Mexicans might also have tied her feet to the stirrup as a means of securing her to the sidesaddle. If so, he could throw the horses off balance and might even bring them down. Nor would there be time for him to go around and check whether she was tied on or not.

  ‘Help!’ the woman screeched, staring at the Texian. ‘Stop the horse, m’sieur!’

  Coming alongside the black, Ole Devil did not bother to reply to die woman’s plea. Instead, he reached across towards the one-piece reins which were hanging over the horse’s neck. Having obtained a hold on them, he cued the dun with knee-pressure so that it began to move off to the right. Feeling the pull on its bit, the black followed without making any fuss. Guiding the two animals around and gradually reducing their speed, he brought them to a halt in front of his companions.

  ‘Nice going, Devil!’ Di praised, having laid down the Browning after the Mexicans had disappeared into the grove of post oaks,

  While speaking, the girl was advancing to hold the black’s head. Dropping to the ground, Ole Devil went around the horses. He found that the woman’s feet were not fastened to the stirrup iron. Holding out his hands, he helped her to slide down. She stumbled into his arms, causing them to tighten about her. Pressing—almost rubbing—her well-developed bosom against him, she began to babble incoherent thanks in a voice which had a marked French accent

  ‘You saved my life, m’sieur,’ the woman stated, after recovering her composure and moving away from her rescuer. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘Here,’ Di said, stepping behind the woman. ‘Let’s get this rope off for you.’

  On reaching for the rope, the girl noticed that it was tied around the stiff cuffs of the gauntlets. She gripped their fingers and pulled, liberating the woman’s hands without the need to unfasten the knot

  Having been set free, the woman introduced herself as Madeline de Moreau. She explained how she had been the only passenger on a stagecoach heading for Texas City. It had been attacked by a gang of Mexican bandidos. The driver and the guard were both killed, but she had been saved from the same—or a worse—fate by being able to prove that her father was wealthy and would be willing to pay a high ransom for her safe return. The leader of the band had told the two men to escort her to their hideout while the rest went in search of fresh loot

  ‘A bunch of bandidos,’ Di growled. ‘That’s all we need!’

  ‘I don’t think they will come looking for you,’ Madeline replied. ‘They were afraid of meeting soldiers and I’m sure that they believe there are more of you—There are more, aren’t there?’

  ‘Not too close,’ Di warned. ‘But they’re coming.’

  ‘Then you will be able to see me safely to Texas City, Captain Hardin,’ the woman suggested, having learned her rescuers’ names after introducing herself.

  ‘I’ll make arrangements to do it as soon as possible,’ Ole Devil promised, but he could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. ‘But I’m on a mission of importance and great urgency and can’t turn aside from it.’

  ‘Very well,’ Madeline said, accepting the situation without argument.

  ‘If you feel up to riding, we’ll move on,’ the Texian requested, then his eyes went to the black. ‘Hey! Where did they get the side-saddle?’

  ‘It’s mine,’ Madeline answered. ‘I had it with me on the coach and my horse was fastened to the boot. Would you help me up, please. I don’t want to delay you.’

  Complying with the woman’s request, Ole Devil mounted the dun and retrieved his second horse. The party started moving and, as before, Tommy ranged ahead. In the late afternoon, as Ole Devil and the women were approaching a deserted building, they saw the little Oriental returning. They were about a mile from Santa Cristobal Bay, but could not see it as yet.

  ‘There’s a ship in the bay, Devil-san,’ Tommy announced, bringing his horses to a stop.

  ‘Is it the one we’ve come to meet?’ Di inquired, although she sensed that the answer would be negative.

  ‘No,’ Tommy replied, confirming her suspicions. ‘It’s a small warship, flying the Mexican flag.’

  Chapter Fourteen – You Could Be Trying to Trick Me

  Standing on the quarterdeck of the Mexican navy’s ten-gun brig Destructor, having been called from his cabin by the master’s mate who had the watch, Lieutenant Tomas Grivaljo directed his telescope at the cause of the summons. Three riders were coming down the slope towards the edge of Santa Cristobal Bay. They made no attempt to conceal their presence from the ship’s working party who were refilling the water barrels at the stream which flowed into the sea at that point. The lack of concern was strange. The woman and the taller of the two men were gringos and their companion, who rode in a subordinate position behind them, appeared to be Chinese.

  Puzzled by the trio’s apparent lack of fear, Grivaljo studied the white man. Tall, young, unshaven, he had on a buckskin shirt and light-colored trousers the legs of which hung outside his boots. There was a pistol and bowie knife balancing each other on his waist belt, but they were his only visible weapons. xxvi A closer examination of the female suggested that ‘girl’ would be more appropriate than ‘woman’. She was wearing a black hat like the man’s, and a black riding habit but was sitting astride her horse. Neither she nor the small Oriental appeared to be armed.

  Seeing that the working party were grabbing up weapons, the gringo raised his hands. He called something which Grivaljo, watching him, could not hear. Holding a pistol in one hand and cutlass in the other, the master’s mate who was commanding the men on shore advanced warily. The trio brought their mounts to
a halt. Still keeping his hands level with the sides of his head, the gringo swung his left leg up and over his dun’s neck. Although he dropped to the ground, his companions remained in their saddles. Ignoring them, Grivaljo kept the gringo under observation as he strolled to meet the master’s mate.

  There was nothing in the gringo’s attitude to suggest that he had the slightest doubt about dismounting, thus leaving the means by which he might be able to make a rapid departure. Looking completely at ease, he walked a good thirty feet away from his horse and companions. Then, coming to a halt in front of the Mexican petty officer at a range where even a mediocre shot could be expected to make a hit with a pistol, he started to speak. Whatever the gringo was saying, he was apparently ready to back it up with some kind of document. Taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, he offered it to Master’s Mate Gomez who opened it out and looked down at it After reading whatever was on it, he pointed towards the ship. Then he handed back the document and he called to his men.

  Turning to his companions, the gringo must have told them to dismount Jumping from his horse, the small Oriental hurried to help the girl down. Then he held the animal’s reins while she joined the gringo. They spoke together and she seemed to be protesting. Instead of arguing, he pointed to one of the boats and she went towards it

  While the small Oriental led their horses towards the stream, the gringo helped the girl into the boat and then followed her in and sat by her side. Two of the sailors, looking disgruntled at having the task thrust upon them by Gomez, shoved the boat off, climbed aboard, and started to row towards Destructor.

  Ever conscious of his dignity and having no desire to compromise it by showing his curiosity, Grivaljo lowered the telescope as the boat was approaching. Then he went to where he could watch without making his scrutiny too obvious.

  On being brought alongside, the gringo showed that he had some knowledge of ships. Standing up, he took hold of the entering-ropes and hauled himself without any difficulty on to the deck. Several members of the crew were hovering around and, in fair Spanish, the gringo asked for help with the girl. There was a rush of volunteers such as Grivaljo had never seen on other occasions when the men were called upon to carry out some duty, but the bosun’s bellow of displeasure drove them back. Having done so, the bosun and the gringo leaned over. The girl had risen nervously and, taking hold of her wrists, they heaved. With a startled yelp, she found herself being plucked from the boat. Her feet beat a tattoo against the side of the ship until she was set down on the deck.

  Commanding the girl to come with him—and there was no other description for the way in which he addressed her—the gringo strolled nonchalantly to where Grivaljo was standing. As he approached, his eyes were darting around. Watching him, the lieutenant felt it was merely an interest in his surroundings that made him do so. There was nothing in his attitude to suggest he had any fear of coming to harm.

  However, the girl did not appear to be quite so much at ease. That, Grivaljo told himself, could be caused because she was aboard a ship. Unless the lieutenant was mistaken, she was of a lower social standing than her escort. Her travel-stained riding habit was expensive, but it had been tailored to fit a woman with a somewhat more ample figure. What was more, if her tanned face and work-roughened hands were anything to go by, she had not always worn such expensive garments. Being a wellborn Spanish-Creole, which accounted for his low rank and humble command, Grivaljo could guess at her relationship with the gringo and he dismissed her from his considerations.

  Conscious of the lieutenant’s scrutiny, Ole Devil Hardin forced himself to retain an outward calm and swaggering confidence. From the look of her when he told her to follow him, Diamond-Hitch Brindley was feeling the strain. Yet she had remembered to kick the sides of the ship while being lifted aboard, ensuring that if certain other sounds had been made, they would pass unnoticed. He felt sure that he could count on her to continue playing her part. If he had not been sure, he would never have allowed her to accompany him in the first place.

  On hearing Tommy Okasi’s news, Ole Devil had called a halt at the deserted cabin. Then he had discussed the matter with Di and the small Oriental. They had not attempted to exclude Madeline de Moreau from their council of war. While she had not been told the exact purpose of their assignment, she was aware that it was of considerable importance to the Republic of Texas. So she had taken a lively interest in what was being said.

  While it had seemed likely that the brig was awaiting the arrival of the ship carrying the rifles, Ole Devil had pointed out that—as the crew were engaged in taking on water—it was possible the visit had only been made for such a purpose. One thing was obvious to them all. No matter what had brought the Mexican warship to Santa Cristobal Bay, its presence called for some kind of action on their part.

  From all appearances, the owners of the cabin had left hurriedly. Certainly they had not waited to pack and carry off all of their property. Noticing one of the items that remained, Ole Devil had started to concoct an audacious scheme.

  Telling Tommy to unpack his war bag, Old Devil had explained what he intended to do. Making use of the document which he had taken from Halford’s body, he would visit the brig and try to find out why it was there. Should it be waiting in ambush, he would find some way of warning the arms ship of its presence. On the other hand, if the reason was merely to replenish the water supply, he had something else in mind. He would attempt to persuade the Mexican captain to sail south and, if successful, hoped to make sure that the brig would not be able to interfere with the landing of the arms.

  On learning of how Ole Devil hoped to achieve his intention, Di had suggested that she should accompany him and Tommy. At first he had refused to consider the idea. However, as on the issue of riding with him to the Bay, she had had her way. Her argument had been that her presence might tend to lessen the Mexican’s suspicions. Also, she had claimed, if Madeline would co-operate, she could carry the means to put Ole Devil’s scheme into operation. Neither of the men would be able to do so, certainly not by concealing the object, and for it to be in plain sight was sure to arouse comments and questions.

  On Ole Devil yielding to Di’s demands, Madeline had suggested that she too should accompany the party. The girl had replied that she did not think it would be a good idea, as there would be considerable danger involved and the need for fighting or fast movement. Di had not considered the woman capable of either, but thought she could help in another way. Madeline had accepted the girl’s decision with apparent good grace. At any rate she had not hesitated to agree when the girl asked to change clothes with her. Nor had the woman shown any alarm over being left alone at the cabin. She had stated that she was a pretty good shot and would have a selection of firearms at her disposal should the need to prove it arise.

  With the various points settled, the party had made their preparations. In addition to having changed his riding breeches for less military-looking trousers from his war bag, Ole Devil had left his second pistol and saber—which had his name inscribed on the blade—at the cabin.

  For the part which she would be playing, Di could not carry her rifle. Taking advantage of the riding habit’s slightly loose fit, she had buckled her belt around her underwear and had concealed the secret object beneath the outer garment. She had, however, insisted upon riding astride as she had never used a sidesaddle.

  Wanting to appear innocuous and to be more convincing in his pose of a harmless ‘Chinese’ servant, Tommy had left his bow, arrows and swords behind, as well as changing his boots for a pair of sandals. He had, however, retained one weapon; but few people outside his native land would have identified it as such. Certainly Madeline, who had seen him replacing it in his trousers’ pocket after having shown it to a clearly puzzled Di, had not. Nor had she heard the explanation of its purpose as that had been made while the trio were riding towards the rendezvous.

  Before allowing themselves to be seen, Di, Ole Devil and Tommy had studied the brig as it lay a
t anchor. It was, the Texian had told the girl, well situated for ambushing any vessel that entered. Due to the way in which the land rose on three sides, it could only be seen from the sea when the mouth of the bay was being approached. At night, provided that the brig was properly darkened, it would be practically invisible against such a background. However, the precautions which Hardin expected had not been taken. There was no lookout on either of the mastheads. The breechings and side-tackles had not been cast off, nor the guns run out. Neither was there a spring attached to the anchor’s cable to facilitate turning the brig and bringing one of its broadsides to bear.

  Ole Devil had regarded the lack of preparations as a good sign. Unless he was mistaken, the omissions were not the result of incompetence. To his eyes, the brig showed no signs of being poorly commanded. In fact he had concluded it was just the opposite. Although the party on shore had been working in a somewhat dilatory fashion, he believed that could be the fault of the master’s mate who was in charge rather than the captain.

  The lieutenant, whom Ole Devil was approaching, seemed old for such a low rank, particularly as he had the appearance of being a capable seaman. There was a bitter expression on his lean, aquiline face that the Texian recognized as common to officers in other navies who had, for some reason, been passed over for promotion.

  ‘Saludos, senor,’ Ole Devil greeted, taking out the ‘proof of his identity. His bearing suggested that he was merely going through an unnecessary formality. ‘This will tell you who I am.’