Waco 3

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Waco 3 Page 15

by J. T. Edson


  ‘Like a stampeded herd,’ Waco replied. ‘We couldn’t get the two killers alive but we brought them back.’

  ‘You know something, Cap’n Bert?’ Doc asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t reckon anybody in Calverton’ll be going bail for these three this time.’

  Case Seven – Gadsby’s Conquests

  Brad Kinross stood at one side of the body and looked at his friend and fellow Ranger, Waco.

  ‘I killed him. You’d better take me in.’

  Waco looked down at the body again. The dead man had been very handsome in life, his features the sort which would turn the heads of women anywhere. He wore the uniform of a cavalry captain, the cut of it showing that he was a man with enough money of his own to be able to afford better than the issue clothing of the Army. The bullet which killed him had struck in his right breast and emerged just over his left hip, tearing a big, gaping hole.

  For a moment Waco looked down at the still form on the floor, then at the gate in the picket fence around the Kinross house, over the neat flower garden to the house itself. Then he looked along the dusty backstreet they stood in to where a bunch of men were coming this way. Lastly his eyes went up the slope on the other side of the street; on top of that slope was the open range country, mile after mile of grazing land.

  The young Texan turned again as the men surged forward, going to his big paint stallion and removing the rope from the saddlehorn. He flipped the noose over one of the picket fence uprights and drew it tight, then turned and spoke to the men as they crowded forward.

  ‘Hold it back there, gents.’

  The crowd slowed down. They did not know who this tall young Texan man was, but he looked capable of backing any request he made right up to the hilt. In every crowd there was one who couldn’t take a gentle hint and needed to be shown: here it was a big, heavy-looking man wearing a store suit.

  ‘Who do you think you are?’ he growled and started to move towards the rope.

  ‘The name’s Waco, mister. I’m an Arizona Ranger and I don’t want folks tromping the sign round that body. All of you keep back until the local law arrives and sees everything.’

  ‘Yeah?’ The big man started to lift his foot to advance. The foot froze in midair.

  Waco’s right-hand gun was in his hand, brought out with a sight-defying speed that told he was a good man with a gun, a man who could not be bluffed or scared by anyone.

  ‘Yeah. Like I said, you stand back. Two of you gents can help me hang this rope around here. Use them two poles in the garden. One of you go and ask the town marshal to come.’

  The men obeyed, but the big man continued to stand, looking at the body, then he asked. ‘You kill him like you said you would, Brad?’

  Before any answer could be made to this, reinforcements to the Ranger group arrived in the shape of Waco’s partner, Doc Leroy, and two more members of the force, Pete Glendon and Billy Speed. Doc stepped over the rope and crossed to bend over and examine the body. Glendon and Billy Speed helped erect the rope in a rough square around the area. Doc looked at the holes in the soldier’s body, then glanced at a hole low in the gate support. He looked up at Waco, and the blond youngster nodded, showing he’d seen and read the message here.

  ‘Tell it, Brad,’ Waco ordered.

  ‘Nothing to tell. I killed him.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that,’ Waco snapped. ‘You aren’t a killer. Is Sarah to home?’

  ‘No, she’s left. I saw her getting on a stage, looked in a hurry,’ Doc replied before Kinross could speak.

  ‘She didn’t have a thing to do with it!’ Kinross spoke hurriedly. ‘I killed him. Can’t you understand that?’

  ‘When did you kill him?’ Doc asked.

  ‘Just before Waco came up. I was looking down at him when Waco got here.’

  For a moment Doc looked as if he was going to say something, then catching a sign from Waco shut his mouth. Waco looked at the crowd of men standing on the other side of the rope, then he said, ‘Pete, take Brad’s guns. He’s your prisoner. Hold him while I send word to Cap’n Bert. Hold him at the house.’

  At that moment three more Rangers arrived; Waco felt relieved when he saw them, for what he aimed to do would not meet with the approval of the local law.

  ‘Ken,’ he said to one of the men. ‘Go get that photographer, ask him to take pictures of the body from all sides. I want them ready as soon as possible. When he’s done it, Dick, you and Sam get the body to the undertaker’s and bring me the jacket back here.’

  The other men accepted Waco’s orders without question. In the Rangers there was only one leader, Captain Mosehan himself, but the other men were willing to take Waco’s orders for they knew he would have a good reason for everything he did. The crowd of townsmen stood around, talking amongst themselves but making no attempt either to help or hinder the Rangers. They showed some interest when the town marshal arrived, but he was one of the lawmen who regarded the Rangers as being an efficient and capable force and was willing to leave the investigation of the shooting in their hands: until he heard from the big man that Brad Kinross had confessed to the killing.

  ‘You said you’d kill him if he came round here again, Brad,’ Hardman, the marshal, growled. ‘I’m going to take you in.’

  Hardman met Waco’s eyes for a moment, then looked away. He was the town law and head of Grand Rock’s three-man police force, but he was only a minor official when compared with the Territorial Rangers. He could not see any way he could take the prisoner from the Rangers even by violence, for they were all men picked for, among other things, skill with their guns.

  Waco stepped over the rope and swung afork the big paint, riding to the town’s main street. He swung down from the horse and was leading it into the livery barn when a woman came out and crashed into him. She staggered back, dropping the double-barreled gun from under her arm.

  ‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Waco said, bending and picking the gun up.

  ‘It was my fault, young man.’

  The woman was a beauty; tall, with a figure that caught the eye. She would be in her early forties, he guessed, but she was possessed of that mature beauty only a few women ever attain. There was a look about her, a lordly condescension, a kind of aloof disdain which said she was someone to be reckoned with. Her clothes were very expensive; the riding habit she wore and the J. B. Stetson hat on her red hair. The gun was expensive, too, a finely chased piece which had cost plenty.

  Before Waco could say another word the woman swept by him and along the street. He took the paint into the barn and arranged for a couple of loose boxes; one for his horse and one for Doc’s big black stallion. The old-timer who was working at the barn grinned at him, ‘See you met the Colonel?’ he said.

  ‘Who?’ Waco inquired.

  ‘The Colonel, Mrs. Stacey, she’s the one who runs the 19th Cavalry up to the fort. Real lady, might be too highhanded for some but she’s always treated me good.’

  Waco unsaddled the big horse and left his gear with the owner of the barn pending his return. He walked out on to the street and headed for the telegraph office; inside he sent a message to his boss. It was half-an-hour before the reply came back, but when it did, Waco was more than satisfied with it. Brad Kinross was lucky. He couldn’t have asked for better luck than having all the Rangers gathering in his home town of Grand Rock to have a group photograph taken; that ensured him twelve real good, loyal friends who would back him to the hilt. Yet he’d got more than just that piece of luck.

  The telegraph reached Mosehan while he was with the Governor of Arizona Territory and that gentleman gave the signature to any action the Rangers felt they should take. Waco was relieved at this for he was going to tread on a whole lot of toes before this thing was over.

  Just as he reached the street he stopped dead; opposite was the Wells Fargo office. He crossed the street and entered, asking a couple of questions of the agent, then came out. Billy Speed was just leading his own
and Glendon’s horses towards the livery barn and Waco crossed to stop him.

  ‘Get afork your horse; take Pete’s with you and go after the stage to Calverton,’ he said. ‘It don’t make any speed and you should catch up with it easy. Tell Sarah Kinross to come back here.’ He gave the thin, cheerful-looking Ranger a message for the girl and watched Bill vault afork his horse and head off out of town, then returned to the Kinross place.

  The county sheriff’s department was on hand when he arrived, represented by the deputy who stayed in Grand Rock all the time. He looked at Waco, ‘You Waco?’

  ‘The only one, friend.’

  ‘I want Kinross.’

  ‘You can’t have him,’ Waco replied and took out the telegraph message form, holding it for the deputy to read.

  The deputy read, ‘Waco. Hold on authority of Governor, Ranger Kinross, pending my arrival to investigate. Mosehan.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘You can see it for yourself, friend. Captain Mosehan’s told me to hold him and hold him she is.’

  The deputy frowned; he was not sure exactly what rights he had in the matter but wasn’t going against the Governor of Arizona. He turned on his heel and headed for the telegraph office to send to the county seat for instructions as to what he should do now.

  Waco went into the house. The body was removed as he’d said and Glendon was seated with Kinross; Doc stood looking out of the window. Kinross sat at the table, head resting on his hands. He looked up at Waco, his face showing the deep strain he was under.

  Waco sat at the table, and his voice was hard and unfriendly as he asked, ‘Who was he and what happened?’

  ‘His name was Gadsby. Dane Gadsby, he’s a Captain of the 19th up there at the fort. I killed him.’

  ‘Why, and why’d you threaten to kill him?’

  ‘He kept pestering Sarah. Wouldn’t leave her alone. I told him to stay clear of her and he got two of his men to try and beat me up. I managed to fix them and I went to see him in the saloon; warned him that if he came near our place again I’d kill him.’

  Waco was watching his friend’s face all the time, knowing that Brad Kinross was hiding something. ‘That sounds a mite hard, Brad. Sarah’s a real pretty gal and it’s only natural for a man to go after a nice, pretty gal. I’ve seen you chase a couple in your time.’

  ‘That depends on how a man chases them. You know that I was just after fun. Gadsby wasn’t. I learned a whole lot about him before I made my move. He’s been thrown out of every command he’s been with for the same thing. I got to know his striker and he told me all about how his boss keeps a book with photographs and all the details about the girls he’s been with. Calls it Gadsby’s Conquests. The striker was pretty drunk and he told me Gadsby told him that he aimed to add Sarah to his list. That was why I told him to stay away from her.’

  ‘How about Sarah, did she ever encourage him any?’ Kinross threw back his chair and came to his feet, fist clenched, then slowly he relaxed, for Waco never moved. ‘You know Sarah. Since maw and paw died we’ve been close together. No, Sarah danced a couple of times with him, but you know she’s been going steady with young Tom McCall. She wanted no part of Gadsby, but he took to hanging about outside the house, that was when I cut in. I didn’t want him doing it When I was out on a Ranger chore.’

  ‘Trouble, Waco,’ Doc said, from the window. ‘We’ve got the Army here now.’

  Waco rose and joined his friend. A tall, hard-looking Colonel, a Major and a squad of troopers under a sergeant were approaching the gate. The Colonel came through and followed by the Major strode up to the house door. Waco waited until the knock came then went to it.

  ‘Kinross?’ the Colonel asked as Waco opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him again.

  ‘Nope, Colonel. Waco, Arizona Rangers.’

  ‘Where is Kinross?’

  ‘Inside.’

  ‘I’m Colonel Stacey of the 19th Cavalry. Kinross killed one of my officers. I want him.’

  ‘He’s my prisoner.’

  Stacey looked at this young-looking Texan, finding eyes that met his own; met and did not flinch from the gaze which cowed soldiers. Then slowly the Colonel looked down at the matched guns in Waco’s holsters. Stacey could read the signs and knew that here was a man who could handle those same guns.

  ‘He murdered a member of the United States Cavalry,’ Stacey barked. ‘I’ve come personally to arrest him.’

  ‘I’m real sorry, Colonel. My orders from our leader, Cap’n Mosehan, is to hold Brad until he comes here to take charge of the investigations.’ Waco held out the telegraph message form. ‘That’s my authority, Colonel.’

  Stacey ignored the telegraph form, his eyes hard. ‘I want that man. Do you intend to stop me taking him?’

  ‘If I have to.’

  ‘You’d fight United States soldiers to hold on to a murderer?’

  ‘Like I said, Colonel. He’s my prisoner. I’d fight the Devil himself before I’d let him take a prisoner from me. And Brad hasn’t been convicted by court yet, so he isn’t proved a murderer.’

  For a time the two faced each other, the older man’s hard eyes softening as he realized that here was a young man doing his duty and standing firm in his orders in a way many a trained soldier would admire.

  ‘You couldn’t fight off all my regiment,’ Stacey finally remarked.

  ‘No, Colonel, but happen you try to take my prisoner I’m surely going to make me a good try.’

  ‘He won’t escape?’ the Major asked.

  ‘If it ever comes that he needs trying, Brad’ll be here for the same trial,’ Waco answered. ‘I’ve got my orders, gentlemen, and I surely aims to follow them right through till the last card’s played.’

  Stacey’s face still showed his respect for the young Texan. He turned on his heel and started towards the gate. He halted and looked back. ‘I’d like to see both you and your leader when he arrives. Come to my house up by the fort.’

  ‘We’ll do that, Colonel,’ Waco answered. He remained at the door until the Colonel had walked away and the troopers were marched back towards the fort, then went into the house again.

  One of the other Rangers came back. He’d been with the photographer and in his hand he carried three large prints of the body, showing bow it lay in comparison to the fence.

  Glendon took the photographs and looked at them. They were not very clear prints but showed all that was necessary.

  ‘Not a bad idea, this, Waco,’ he said.

  ‘Got its uses,’ Waco agreed.

  ‘You just think of it?’

  ‘Nope, met a detective from the Chicago police, he told me they sometimes use photographs in cases like this.’

  ‘It important?’

  ‘Sure, Pete. These pictures show just how Gadsby was lying.’

  The other two Rangers came back at that moment, bringing the coat Gadsby was wearing when he died. Waco sent one of them to fetch the deputy sheriff, the marshal and the judge. Then he looked up the slope and said, ‘Feel like taking a walk, Pete?’

  Glendon showed some surprise at this, for Waco was a cowhand born and raised, and would never walk when he could ride. However, Glendon followed the young man up the slope, and on top he watched Waco looking for something. Glendon was no mean hand at following tracks or reading the marks left on the ground, and saw the marks in the short grass just an instant after Waco, From the way the grass was crushed both read that someone had walked this way, then knelt at the top of the rim, looking down at the house below, right at the spot where Gadsby stood when he was killed.

  The tracks led for a short distance to a mesquite scrub where a horse had been tethered for a short time. From there on there were no more footprints, only the marks the horse left. Waco and Glendon looked at each other for a time, then Glendon asked:

  ‘What do you make of it all, boy?’

  ‘Could be important, might be nothing. We don’t have time to try and trail the hoss right now.’
/>   ‘I’ll follow them if you like,’ Glendon suggested, for he, too, saw the marshal and the two other men coming towards the house.

  ‘Do that,’ Waco answered and turned to hurry down the slope.

  The Judge was a portly, tanned man; a keen outdoors man who would rather take a day’s hunting than a trial. He was also honest, scrupulously fair and impartial. He looked as Waco came down the slope and advanced to meet them.

  ‘I can’t say I like your high-handed way of doing things, Ranger,’ he said.

  ‘Would the marshal have turned one of his deputies over to me, had he been in my place, Judge?’ Waco replied. ‘I held on to Brad for the same reason. Then when I got my orders from Cap’n Mosehan I surely couldn’t just pull out and disobey them.’

  ‘I see your point, now, why did you want us to come here?’

  ‘To prove something to you. I want to clear Brad Kinross and his sister of the killing.’

  ‘Nobody blames Brad for killing Gadsby,’ the marshal growled. ‘If a man like that’d been after my daughter or sister I’d have done the same.’

  ‘Brad didn’t kill Gadsby. He said he did because he thought Sarah had killed him. Sarah thought Brad’d done it and she ran out. Took a stage out of town. I don’t know why she ran unless it was to make everyone think she’d done the killing and clear Brad.’

  ‘All right, but shouldn’t it be done in a courtroom?’

  ‘No, Judge, it shouldn’t,’ Waco replied. ‘Brad is an Arizona Ranger. If he goes into court, all the bunch who are after Cap’n Mosehan and getting the Rangers disbanded will have something to get their teeth into. They’ll want to see him convicted, innocent or guilty, and they’ll swear we rigged the evidence if we get him off. I want to prove to you that Brad couldn’t have done the killing and he doesn’t need to stand trial for it.’

  The other Rangers came from the house. Brad Kinross looked at Waco with pleading in his eyes. Waco, however, was looking over the other men, then said to one of the Rangers, ‘Tom, you look about the same height as Gadsby. Put his coat on.’

 

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