by J. T. Edson
Fog and his companions might think they were clever, but Lampart would teach them differently. There was no need for haste, not even in dealing with that impetuous young fool who stood before him. He wanted to see the other’s expression on pulling the Peacemaker’s trigger when only a dull, dry click rewarded the gesture. The appearance of the Bulldog would have been a severe shock, but the failure of the Colt would be even worse.
So Lampart moved in an almost leisurely manner—and paid the penalty.
Instead of trying to fire the useless Peacemaker, Waco had drawn his left hand Army Colt as soon as the section of the desk began to move. Flame ripped from the eight-inch barrel as the Webley was lifted from its resting place. Hit in the head, Lampart slammed back. Tipping over under his weight, the chair deposited him on the floor. The Webley slid unfired from his lifeless left hand.
‘Dusty was right,’ the youngster breathed, placing the Peacemaker on the desk and darting to the window which overlooked the street. ‘Knowing about that old plow handle did help to save my life.’
Even before Dusty had touched the revolver and found it was too cold to have been fired, he had suspected that some other weapon was responsible for Glover’s and Eel’s deaths. The shots had been fired too quickly for a single action even being fanned. Which meant that the mayor had another firearm. It was not on his person, so it must have been concealed in the desk. Confirmation for the suspicion had come from the examination of the bodies. If Glover had been pointing his revolver at Lampart, his forefinger would have been in the trigger guard. A man with the outlaw’s experience, however, would have known better than to place his finger on the trigger until the barrel had left the holster and was pointing away from him. 24
Having heard Dusty’s warning, Waco had turned his own thoughts to the matter and come up with further conclusions. One clue had come from Dusty’s description of Lampart’s ambidextrous card manipulation. Considering that, the youngster had decided the mayor had used his left hand when firing the hide-away gun. The cocked Peacemaker would be there to distract his victim. Carried a stage further, Waco had decided it was unlikely that the Colt would fire. It would be too easily available to an enemy—as his own actions had proved—for a hombre as smart and, tricky as the mayor to chance having it capable of being turned on him with live ammunition in the cylinders.
So Waco had never intended trying to defend himself with the borrowed Colt. Instead, he had gambled on his own ambidextrous ability and had won.
Looking along the street, the youngster decided that the shot had not been heard. He returned his Colt to its holster as he went to the desk. Taking hold of Lampart’s body, he dragged it to a corner so that it could not be seen from either window. With that done, he went to examine the contents of the open drawer. A sigh of relief burst unbidden from his lips. The ‘magnetic’ battery was there, coupled up and ready for operation. It was one of the portable variety designed to supply an electric current for use with a mobile telegraph station. Bent had one just like it at his place in the Indian Nations and, ever curious about unusual things, Waco had learned how it was worked.
On Waco throwing the activating switch, there was a deep roaring bellow from behind the house. The adobe shack disintegrated in a sheet of flame and billowing black smoke. Even in the mayor’s office, Waco could feel the blast and concussion of the explosion shake the house. Glass shattered as windows broke and he heard shouts of alarm rising. Darting from the office, he locked its door and pocketed the key. Then he sprinted through the living quarters. Giselle had followed Dusty’s orders to the letter—trust ole Lon to see to that. Going out he found the key in place in the rear door. He turned, removed and pocketed it. Then, as the first of the people attracted by the commotion appeared, he began to shake at the door.
‘What happened, Matt?’ demanded an outlaw whose face carried marks from the battle at the hollow.
‘I’m damned if I know,’ the youngster replied. ‘That blasted bullet-shack just son-of-a-bitching went up.’
‘Where’s Lampart?’ the jeweler demanded, looking around. ‘I’ve warned him that this might happen, keeping that blasted fuse wired up.’
‘Door’s locked,’ Waco replied. ‘Sombody’d best go around the front.’
Men dashed to do so, returning with the news—which did not surprise Waco—that there was no sign of the mayor or his wife.
‘I’ll tell you one thing,’ Waco yelled. ‘I’m not waiting around to find out where he is. When the Kweharehnuh hear there’s no bullets coming to ’em, they’re going to get mean. Comes that happening, I figure to be long gone.’
With that, he pushed through the crowd and headed for the livery barn. Red was waiting, dressed in Levi’s pants, a blouse and dainty hat.
‘What hap—?’ the girl began.
‘Don’t talk, mount up and ride,’ Waco interrupted, indicating the horses which stood saddled and ready. ‘We’ve got some miles to cover afore we catch up with the others.’
Three days later, the united party made camp a few miles north of the Swisher Creek’s junction with the Prairie-dog Fork of the Red River. They had come that far without difficulty, other than that suffered by Belle and Emma. Although each claimed that she had held herself in check all through the second fight, both now had two blackened eyes and so many additional bruises that they could not ride their horses.
On being questioned about the explosion, Waco had told the truth without revealing his companions’ true identity. He had said that he considered his actions were for the best. Destroying the ammunition would cause even the outlaws whose boxes had been looted to be more concerned with fleeing from the Palo Duro than in pursuing their party. Giselle had taken the news of her widowhood calmly, declaring that she was relieved to know that she need never worry about Simmy tracking her down.
Waco’s summation had proved correct, for nobody had come after them. They had seen one group of Kweharehnuh warriors, who had ridden by without stopping. Indicating a distant column of smoke, the Kid had guessed that it rose from the Antelopes’ village and was calling the various parties of braves in for a conference about the destruction of their ammunition.
A couple of the town’s guides had approached the party. On hearing what had happened in Hell and discovering that their presence was unwelcome, they had ridden away. When last seen, they had been heading east as fast as their horses would carry them.
After supper, while Waco was hoorawing the Kid for having forgotten the excuse which it had been arranged that Giselle would use to prevent her husband suspecting she had left town, Dusty asked Belle and Emma to join him for a stroll. They were in safe country at last and the time had come for certain matters to be settled. Once out of earshot of the others, the blonde raised the very subject which Dusty had meant to introduce.
‘When do we share out the loot, Ed?’ Emma asked.
‘That’s what I asked you both out here to talk about,’ Dusty admitted.
‘What’s to talk about?’ Emma demanded. ‘We just sit around the fire and go, “One for you”. “One for you”. “One for you”, until it’s all split up even.’
‘Not quite,’ Dusty objected. ‘You stop going “one for you” when you, Belle and Giselle have fifty thousand apiece and the girls and Hubert have ten thousand each.’
‘There’s well over half a million in the pot, Ed,’ Emma said coldly. ‘I’d say you and your boys’re taking a kind of selfish split.’
‘Not when you consider we’ve got to share it with all the banks it came from,’ Dusty countered.
‘B-Banks—’ Emma spluttered and swung to the lady outlaw. ‘Do you know what the hell he’s talking about?’
‘Yes,’ Belle replied. ‘I think I do. He’s giving us a reward for helping him finish off a chore.’
‘Now I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,’ Emma groaned. ‘Unless you’re in cahoots—’
‘You might say we are,’ Belle smiled. ‘And before you start something we�
��ll both of us regret, I reckon I should introduce you to this feller you’ve been fighting me for.’
‘Intro—!’ Emma yelped. ‘I know who he i—’
‘Miss Nene, meet Captain Dusty Fog,’ Belle interrupted.
‘Is—’ the blonde finished, then her mouth trailed open and she stared at the big Texan. ‘D-Did she say Dusty Fog?’
‘That’s what she said,’ Dusty confirmed.
‘Then you’re not Ed—You’ve been using me!’
‘No more than you were willing to use me,’ Dusty pointed out, studying the play of emotions on the blonde’s face. ‘I was sent by the Governor to close Hell down and, with you folks’ help, I’ve done it. Now this’s my deal. You-all take the cut I’ve just offered and go with Belle. She’ll see you safe through the Indian Nations to Kansas. And you’ve got my word that I’ll not say a thing about you being part of the town.’
‘It’s a good offer, Emma,’ Belle remarked. ‘And seeing that we’ve no other choice, I reckon we’d best take it.’
‘You’re not Ed Caxton!’ the, blonde breathed, eyes fixed on Dusty and showing no sign that she had heard the lady outlaw. ‘You’re—I’ve slept with Dusty Fog!’
‘Stop your bragging just because you’ve done something I haven’t,’ Belle suggested with a smile.
‘You mean that you and E—D—nothing happened last night?’ Emma gasped, showing she had heard Belle’s last comment.
‘Dusty slept on the floor like a perfect gentleman,’ Belle declared. ‘How about it, Emma, do we take Dusty’s offer? If not, I took a lot of lumps for nothing.’
‘I reckon fifty thousand dollars ought to make up for them,’ Emma replied. ‘You’re calling the play, Captain Fog.’
About the Author
J.T. Edson was a former British Army dog-handler who wrote more than 130 Western novels, accounting for some 27 million sales in paperback. Edson’s works - produced on a word processor in an Edwardian semi at Melton Mowbray - contain clear, crisp action in the traditions of B-movies and Western television series. What they lack in psychological depth is made up for by at least twelve good fights per volume. Each portrays a vivid, idealized “West That Never Was”, at a pace that rarely slackens.
The Floating Outfit Series by J. T. Edson
The Ysabel Kid
.44 Caliber Man
A Horse Called Mogollon
Goodnight’s Dream
From Hide and Horn
Set Texas Back on Her Feet
The Hide and Tallow Men
The Hooded Riders
Quiet Town
Trail Boss
Wagons to Backsight
Troubled Range
Sidewinder
Rangeland Hercules
McGraw’s Inheritance
The Half-Breed
White Indians
Texas Kidnappers
The Wildcats
The Bad Bunch
The Fast Gun
Cuchilo
A Town Called Yellowdog
Trigger Fast
The Trouble Busters
The Making of a Lawman
Decision for Dusty Fog
Cards and Colts
The Code of Dusty Fog
The Gentle Giant
Set A-Foot
The Law of the Gun
The Peacemakers
To Arms! To Arms, In Dixie!
Hell in the Palo Duro
... And more to come every month!
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More on J. T. EDSON
1 Told in Sidewinder.
2 Nemenuh: ‘The People’, the Comanches’ name for their nation.
3 Told in Comanche.
4 Told in The Ysabel Kid.
5 Told in Trigger Fast.
6 Tuivitsi: an adolescent youth.
7 Tehnap: an experienced warrior.
8 Tsukup: old man.
9 Unlike the white man, the Indian mounted and dismounted on the right side.
10 Told in Kill Dusty Fog! and Under the Stars and Bars.
11 Told in The Devil Gun.
12 Some of Belle Boyd’s history is told in: The Bloody Border, Back to the Bloody Border, The Bad Bunch and The Hooded Riders.
13 Told in: The Colt and the Saber and The Rebel Spy.
14 Told in the ‘The Paint’ episode of The Fastest Gun in Texas.
15 Told in: Quiet Town, The Making of a Lawman, The Trouble Busters.
16 A Texan used the word ‘mount’ and not ‘string’ for his work horses.
17 Told in A Town Called Yellowdog.
18 Mark Counter’s part in the floating outfit is recorded in their other stories.
19 That had puzzled the Kid, until Dusty had explained why the following day. If the trio had been arrested by the posse, their loot would have to be returned to the Army and the reward shared with the other men involved in their capture. By letting them get through to Hell, Butterfield and Hatchet could expect to make far more money.
20 Told in The Peacemakers.
21 Naivi: an adolescent Comanche girl.
22 A more detailed description of a faro game is given in Rangeland Hercules.
23 How that relationship began, developed and finally ended is told in the ‘The Bounty On Belle Starr’s Scalp’ episode of Troubled Range, The Bad Bunch, Rangeland Hercules, the ‘A Lady Known as Belle’ episode of The Hard Riders and Guns in the Night,
24 Why is told in The Fast Gun.