by J. T. Edson
‘I’ve never slapped you down in front of folks,’ Ma growled, face burning red with annoyance. ‘But, happen you don’t shut up, I’ll make a start.’
‘Mrs. Schell,’ Colin said. ‘I’ll use the carbine.’
‘You can take the Colt if you want it,’ Ma replied, and although she stiffened slightly, Jeanie did not speak.
‘The wee rifle’ll be good enough, ma’am,’ Colin assured her. ‘If you’ll be so good as to let me have bullets for it.’
‘It’s capped ready,’ Ma said. ‘I’ll get you a box of cartridges.’
While her mother returned to the bedroom, Jeanie stood glaring at Colin. Fully aware that Ma did not make idle threats, and more than a little ashamed at her own behavior, the girl knew better than to continue her attack. Realizing that she was in the wrong did little to make Jeanie feel more amiable to Colin. Instead she regarded his silence and Ma’s intervention as further proof of his lack of masculinity. It seemed that somebody else was always having to finish the trouble he had started.
Taking the box of paper cartridges Ma brought from the bedroom, Colin thanked her and turned to Jeanie.
‘I’m sorry, M—’
Letting out an indignant snort, the girl tossed her head. She turned and went into Kenny’s bedroom, started to slam the door, realized what she was doing and grabbed at the handle. Completing the closing in silence, she gave an annoyed hiss. That fancy-dressed dude had the damnedest way of putting a burr under her saddle.
‘Come on, amigo’ Dusty said gently to Colin and then looked at Lansing. ‘We’re ready, sheriff. Where do we start?’
Which put Lansing in an awkward position. Appointed by the Davis Administration, he held his post on political rather than efficiency grounds. Faced with a serious situation, he had no idea how to deal with it. Up until the question, he had assumed that Dusty Fog would take command and was content to go along in a subordinate capacity.
‘I—We’ll go through the greaser section,’ the sheriff decided after a brief pause to marshal his thoughts. ‘I reckon the Flores bunch’d be hid out with their own kind.’
‘Could be,’ Dusty admitted and opened the door. ‘Will you be all right, Ma?’
‘If we ain’t, we’ll let you know,’ Ma promised.
‘Especially if I get that scatter-gun I was promised,’ April remarked.
‘I’ll fetch it now,’ Ma grunted. ‘All this talking’s made me forget it.’
As the men went on to the porch, they found the Kid and Temple approaching. Each of the men looked well-armed. In addition to their belt guns, they both carried two rifles. The Kid had his Winchester in his right hand and a shorter version of it in the left, while Temple toted a Spencer carbine and another of the new model Winchesters.
‘Figured we might need these,’ the Kid commented, hefting the two Winchesters. ‘So I fetched ’em from the hotel.’
‘Made me tote the heavy ‘n’,’ Temple went on, holding out the Winchester. ‘Here, take hold of it, Mark.’
‘Sheriff figures we should go through the Mex section, Lon,’ Dusty remarked as he accepted his carbine.
‘I’ve already done that,’ the Kid answered. ‘They not hid down there.’
‘You searched every jacale and the cantina?’ Lansing asked.
‘Warn’t no need,’ the Kid replied. ‘Folks weren’t acting scared or nothing. They would’ve been if the Flores boys were around.’
‘Maybe we should make a search,’ Lansing said to Dusty. ‘You know greasers?’
‘Nowhere near as well as Lon does,’ Dusty stated. ‘I’ll go along with him.’
‘There’s one way we can maybe fetch ’em out of wherever they’re hid,’ Mark put in. ‘If Colin’s game to try it.’
‘Try what?’ the Scot asked.
‘Walk right down the center of Main Street. If they’re around, that ought to bring them out.’
‘It for sure will,’ the Kid agreed. ‘They’ll have to make their play, or lose face with the local Mexicans.’
‘I’ll do it!’ Colin said grimly.
‘It’ll be risky,’ Dusty warned. ‘You’ll be throwing out a challenge they have to take up.’
‘I’ll still do it!’ Colin insisted.
‘Figured you would,’ Dusty grinned. ‘We’ll do everything we can to make things easier.’
‘Give Lon and me a few minutes to get into place, Dusty,’. Mark suggested. ‘I’ll go to the livery barn.’
‘Saloon for me,’ the Kid went on. ‘Up on the balcony.’
‘Take my carbine with you, Lon,’ Dusty ordered. ‘You’d best stay here with Ma, Lou. How about you, sheriff?’
‘M—Me?’ Lansing croaked.
‘Maybe you’d best go back to your office and get your deputies ready to help us when Flores comes,’ Dusty suggested.
‘Yeah!’ Lansing agreed eagerly. That’s what I’ll do.’
‘Shouldn’t he be with us?’ Colin inquired, watching the sheriff scuttle away.
‘Comes to trouble,’ Dusty replied dryly, ‘I’d sooner have him where he is, out from under-foot. Get to it, Mark, Lon. We’ll come on to the street down the west end.’
After Mark and the Kid took their departure, the latter once more carrying Dusty’s carbine, the small Texan turned his attention to Colin. Making sure the Scot knew how to load and handle the Sharps, Dusty told him what to do in case of an attack. From all he could see and the questions Colin asked, Dusty concluded his instructions had been understood and he could rely on the other not to panic. While walking towards the west side of the town, Colin brought up something which had been puzzling him since hearing Jeanie mention it.
‘What does it mean when you say somebody is a forty-four caliber man?’
‘It started back around the early ’40s,’ Dusty explained. ‘Colonel Colt’s new revolvers started coming into Texas about then. His first guns were only .36 caliber, and the new gun was a forty-four. Which same was a whole heap of gun, too much for some folks. The Texas Rangers got the first of the new guns, and the Rangers were all picked men. So folks started saying they were forty-four caliber men, something special. As time went on, more of the Colts came on the market. The name got to mean a feller who was all man and could be relied on from hell to high water. Any man who gets called it earns the name.’
‘Miss Schell’s father was a forty-four caliber man?’
‘All the way and back again.’
By that time they had passed alongside the last building and stood at the edge of the main street. Carefully Dusty studied the surrounding range, then turned his eyes to the street. The body had been removed and only a few people walked the street.
‘Let’s go,’ Dusty said. ‘Take it easy and keep your eyes open.’
Knowing that Mark and the Kid were covering them did not cause Dusty to relax or become careless. All the time he and Colin walked, he kept his eyes constantly flickering from side to side. On the sidewalks, men and women paused to look at them as they advanced along the center of the street. No westerner needed to ask what such behavior meant and there was a sudden scattering as the people headed for cover.
As they passed the livery barn, Colin saw Mark standing up in the hayloft. The blond giant gave the Scot a cheery grin, but did not speak or lower his rifle. Walking from the barn towards the Black Bear Saloon, Colin tried to locate the Kid. At first he failed, then saw the black-dressed youngster crouching behind the long name-board fastened to the railings of the balcony.
Suddenly hooves drummed on the street behind them and four riders tore into view from around the end of a building. Instantly the Kid rose from his place of concealment. His left hand tossed the carbine down to Dusty and his right started to raise the rifle shoulder-wards. Catching the carbine, Dusty swiveled around. Colin turned almost as fast, snapping the Sharps to his shoulder.
‘Don’t shoot!’ Mark bellowed, appearing at the loft’s loading door. The riders wore U.S. cavalry uniforms and forage caps. Nor was it likely tha
t were members of the Flores gang in disguise, for all had Anglo-Saxon features. Finding two carbines on the street aimed their way, the soldiers reined in their horses hurriedly.
‘What the—!’ the sergeant in the lead began.
‘We thought you were somebody else,’ Colin replied, lowering his Sharps.
‘Looks that way,’ the non-com admitted dryly, then studied the Scot from head to toe. ‘Say! You’re the feller who shot Adàn Flores, ain’t you?’
‘He’s the feller,’ Dusty agreed. ‘We figured Adàn’s kin might be wanting to try for evens and concluded to give them a chance.’
‘So that’s why you’re out here,’ the sergeant breathed.
‘Figured letting them come to us’d be the easiest way to find them,’ Dusty explained. ‘And when you boys come busting around the corner—’
‘Yeah,’ the non-com said. ‘We was headed for the saloon to spend some of our pay afore the post sutler attaches it. If we’d got shot, it’d’ve riled him. We owe him a double-eagle a piece.’
‘I’ve got me a thirst worse than afore,’ commented one of the soldiers.
‘And me,’ admitted the sergeant. ‘We’ll go on, if that’s all right with you, si—friend.’
‘Go to it,’ Dusty told him. ‘I hope you spend some afore the sutler finds out you’ve left the post.’
‘We’ll try,’ promised the sergeant. ‘If there’s any shooting, we’ll come out and lend a hand.’
‘Thanks,’ Dusty said.
After the soldiers had ridden on, the Kid walked from the saloon. Mark came from the livery barn and joined his companions.
‘What do you reckon?’ Dusty asked.
‘They’re not around,’ Mark replied. ‘Or if they are, the soldiers’ll keep them off.’
‘Way I see it,’ the Kid went on, ‘Vicente and the other jasper came in without Tiburcio knowing.’
‘He felt that bad about Adàn being killed?’ Dusty inquired.
‘Felt nothing,’ scoffed the Kid. ‘He’d do it to show Tiburcio and Matteo how tough he was. Other feller was maybe kin to the jasper Miss April shot.’
‘So the gang may not be here after all?’ Colin said.
‘They’re around, somewheres not too far off,’ the Kid stated.
‘Arnie Ho Hell’s fire, Dusty. I clean forgot to look in on ole Arnie while I was down there.’
‘Do it now,’ Dusty ordered. ‘Do you want Mark along?’
‘I can handle it best alone,’ the Kid decided.
‘We’ll wait for you at Ma Schell’s then,’ Dusty replied.
‘Where can I buy a revolver?’ Colin asked as the Kid strolled unconcernedly off in the direction of the Mexican quarter.
‘Down to Hoffer’s store,’ Dusty answered. ‘I’ll come with you. Mark, you’d best go back to let Ma know what’s happened.’
‘Sure,’ Mark agreed. ‘Only don’t come blaming Lon and me if the Flores bunch sneak up and kill you both.’
With that friendly warning ringing in their ears, Dusty and Colin headed for Hoffer’s general store. A few customers eyed them worriedly as they entered, but said nothing about the incident in the street. The store carried the usual miscellany of items, including a good range of firearms. Crossing to the side of the shop devoted to sporting goods, Dusty and Colin looked into the glass-topped case which held a number of revolvers.
‘I’d like to look at that one,’ Colin said, pointing to the required gun as Hoffer joined them.
Tall, lean, with an expression of concern permanently on his face, Hoffer studied the choice for a moment. ‘Sure. I’ve got some new 1860 Army Colts if—’
‘That’s the one I want,’ Colin insisted, still indicating the old Dragoon model.
‘Mind if I look it over?’ Dusty asked.
‘Feel free, Cap’n Fog,’ Hoffer replied, opening the case and taking out the revolver. ‘I got it from the widow of an old Ranger. It’s been well cared for.’
Accepting and examining the Dragoon, Dusty saw that Hoffer had spoken the truth about its condition. However he wondered if the lighter Army Colt might be more suitable for the young Scot.
‘No!’ Colin stated vehemently when Dusty raised the point. ‘This’s the kind of gun I want.’
Colin was determined to prove himself to Jeanie and make her admit that he had the stuff in him to be thought of as a forty-four caliber man.
Chapter Eight
Shortly before noon, the men gathered in Ma’s living room. Only the Kid had not returned and the others sat around the table eating a meal served by the women. Colin had bought the Dragoon, three hundred .44 paper cartridges, powder, lead for molding bullets, percussion caps and the old Ranger’s gun-belt. This like the revolver, was in good condition, the holster well shaped for a fast twist hand draw. However certain alterations were needed to make it fit Colin and the town’s saddler agreed to make the necessary adjustments. Not wishing Jeanie to see the gun until he was competent in its use, Colin had left it at the store.
On their return, Dusty and Colin had learned that Kenny was sleeping comfortably. Ma looked worried as she told them, for she knew that her son would be unfit to ride for some time to come. Nor could he be moved around in the wagon. Guessing what troubled her, Dusty waited for the opportunity to offer any help she might require. Ma’s pride would prevent her from asking outright, as he knew, and his own offer must be timed and worded correctly or meet with refusal.
The Kid entered the room and halted to study the other men as they sat around the table.
‘It’s just about what I’d expect,’ he growled. ‘All the white folks sat filling their bellies while this poor lil Injun boy’s been working.’
‘You’ve been working?’ Mark asked. ‘Well, they do say there’s a time and place for everything.’
‘What’d you find out?’ Dusty inquired before the Kid could think up an answer suitable for mixed company.
‘Arnie lit out just a mite after the shooting,’ the Kid replied. ‘I was going to try looking for him, but figured I’d best tell you first.’
‘Any chance of you finding him?’ Dusty wanted to know.
‘Not a whole heap,’ admitted the Kid. ‘He took off along the trail, could’ve left it anywhere. Happen Ka-Dih’s willing. I’ll cut his sign.’
‘Forget it,’ Dusty decided. ‘We’ll let them make the next move.’
‘They may not try,’ Colin put in.
‘They’ll try,’ Mark told him.
‘There’s nothing more sure than that,’ the Kid agreed. ‘Now Vicente’s gone under, they’ve got to cut you down.’
‘Then I’ll go back to the hotel,’ Colin stated and started to rise.
‘The hell you will!’ Ma snapped. ‘You’re staying with us.’
‘We stand a better chance of licking them if we’re all together,’ Dusty went on. ‘If we split up, they can pick us off one at a time.’
‘Dusty can look after you better if you stay here,’ Jeanie remarked.
‘Damn it!’ Colin barked, slamming a hand on to the table. ‘I’m not a child to need looking after. And I’m asking no man to fight for me.’
‘And I’m not offering to,’ Dusty said quietly, giving Jeanie a glare which made her squirm in her seat. ‘This’s not just your fight, Colin. Lou and Miss Hosman each killed one of the gang. Lon downed two. I shot another of them. That means the Flores gang’ll be after all of us. So we’ve got to stand together.’
‘Like us Pehnane say,’ the Kid went on. ‘United we stand, divided the Kaddo take our scalps.’
‘You’re sure that’s an old Indian saying?’ April smiled. ‘I learned it in school.’
‘You white folks’re allus taking the red brother’s land,’ grinned the Kid. ‘Looks like you’re wide looping his sayings now.’
That broke the air of tension. Sinking back into his chair, Colin relaxed. He looked at Jeanie, but she turned her face from him.
‘I’ve got to go see that Army hoss buyer this afternoo
n, Dusty,’ Ma said.
‘I’ll go with you,’ Dusty promised. ‘On the way back, Colin and I’ll pick up our gear from the hotel.’
‘You’d best bring your things from the Black Bear, April,’ Ma went on.
‘Thanks, Ma,’ April replied. ‘Only what’ll your neighbors say when they hear you’ve got me staying with you?’
‘Nothing to me,’ Ma grinned. ‘And what I don’t hear ’em say won’t make me lose sleep.’
‘You can maybe make some arrangements with your boss about working,’ Dusty told the blonde. ‘Couple of us’ll go with you and see you safe back here.’
‘If you’re looking for volunteers—’ Mark began hopefully.
‘Put me down top of the list,’ Temple interrupted. ‘Depot agent allows I’d best not take any stages out until this blows over.’
‘You and Lou go help Miss Hosman move in, Mark,’ Dusty decided. ‘Colin and me’ll be with you, Ma. Reckon you can hold the house if I leave Lon to do the heavy toting, Jeanie?’
‘I’ll make a whirl at it,’ the girl replied.
So the matter was decided. The men finished their meal and the two parties left the house. Neither Dusty nor Mark carried his Winchester, but Temple toted his Spencer. On reaching the main street, April went with her escort to the saloon. Ma Dusty and Colin made their way towards the hotel. People on the sidewalk eyed the young Scot with interest. There was the man who had killed two of the Flores brothers. One topic of conversation ran through Fort Sawyer; how much longer would Colin Farquharson live.
Two horsemen galloped along the street as Dusty’s party approached the hotel. Although the small Texan tensed slightly, he soon relaxed when he recognized them. They were the cowhands who had helped to deliver the small herd of cattle to the Army post and their coming solved a problem for him. Up until then he had been wondering how to deliver their property to the Schell house. Bringing their horses to a sliding halt, the cowhands dropped from the saddles. Tall, lean, wiry youngsters, they wore cowhand clothes as if born to them—which they had been—and each carried a low-hanging Army Colt. Going by the names ‘Shad’ and Tex’, they had impressed Colin the previous night by their happy-go-lucky natures and loyalty to Dusty Fog.