Straw Men

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Straw Men Page 13

by J. R. Roberts


  “Trying to get a piece of the colonel’s money, huh?” Abigail asked from the back of her white mustang.

  Clint shrugged and shook his head. “Someone who’s after nothing but money only understands greed. At least this way I’m accepted as just another hired gun.”

  “I don’t know about that, but the colonel sure seems wrapped up in his own bullshit. Look at him up there like the cock of the walk. I give him another minute or so before he calls for us to ride ahead and make sure he doesn’t get his pretty boots dirty on anything.”

  “His boots will be the least of his worries before too long,” Clint said in a voice that was kept low enough to go unheard by anyone but Abigail.

  “What have you got planned?” she asked.

  “Me?” Clint replied with mock offense. “I’m just going along for the whole ride and will probably get paid enough to buy half a bottle of whiskey when it’s all said and done. You, on the other hand, are going to make certain these soldiers waste all their time here before being led back toward the fort on a wild-goose chase. That sound like something you could do?”

  “Half a bottle, huh? The colonel must have given you one hell of a bonus. I’d say I got paid enough to chase a few wild geese.”

  Just then, Farelli’s voice thundered through the air. “Scouts! Ride ahead and see how many Indians you can find. There’s a bonus for any redskins you kill before I get there.”

  “That took longer than I thought,” Abigail said as she snapped her reins and rode ahead along with the men who’d been hired on to ride with the soldiers.

  Clint rode along as well. As soon as he was spotted, the rest of the scouts fell in behind him.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  It wasn’t long before shots crackled through the air. There were enough horses charging to or from the camp of crippled wagons to send a constant rumble through the ground. Indian braves yelped their battle cries as scouts shouted back and forth to one another.

  After watching Ahiga lead his men around the camp in one direction, Clint pointed in another and shouted, “They went that way!”

  The scouts had their guns drawn and had been firing, but they didn’t seem too anxious to give chase now that a few bullets and arrows had sailed over their heads. Just to be certain, Clint steered Eclipse to a spot that prevented anyone from truly going after Ahiga. The scouts weren’t about to trample him, so they went where Clint wanted them to go.

  Colonel Farelli rode up to the camp with his pistol drawn. “Just as Adams described it,” he said upon setting his sights on the grounded wagons and single tepee. “Open fire!” Without waiting for any of his men to make a move, Farelli aimed at the tepee and pulled his trigger.

  Between the order from Farelli and the shots that were already being fired, the soldiers with the colonel reflexively followed their leader’s example. Shots were fired one after the other until the tepee was a tattered mess and the wagons had more holes than a fishing net.

  “Take no chances!” Farelli barked to the man beside him. “I want those wagons blown to bits! Where’s my dynamite?”

  Now that the scouts were away from the camp and riding off in the proper direction, Clint pulled on his reins and steered Eclipse toward the camp. Once the first volley of Farelli’s gunfire was over, Clint heard a loud explosion and saw one of the wagons shatter into a burst of splintered wood.

  Clint kept his head low and raced around the camp until he caught sight of where Ahiga was waiting for him. The Navajo was off his horse and motioned for Clint to follow suit. As soon as he was close enough, Clint swung down from the saddle and led Eclipse behind the cover of a bunch of rocks.

  “Where’s our ace in the hole?” Clint asked.

  Ahiga reached for his own saddle to grab a large bundle that had been slung across his horse’s rump. Handling the bundle as if it wasn’t any heavier than a load of hay, Ahiga dropped it to the ground and pulled back the blanket to reveal the petrified face of the skinny translator. Clint looked at the translator’s face and was instantly reminded of the attack that had ended Lieutenant McGurn’s life.

  Upon seeing the translator’s face, Clint grinned and looked over to Ahiga. “I thought you were kidding when you said you’d found him.”

  “Why would I kid about that?”

  Not wanting to take the time to explain sarcasm to the Indian, Clint shifted his focus to the translator. Fortunately, Farelli had another one of the wagons blown up right about then. “You hear that?” Clint asked.

  The translator nodded vehemently and tried to cover his eyes. His arms were tied behind his back, however, so the best he could manage was to clench his eyes shut and turn his head away.

  “Your Colonel Farelli has come back for you,” Clint said. “Seems he truly doesn’t like loose ends.”

  “Wh…what do you…do you want from me?” the translator stammered.

  Clint grabbed the translator’s chin and forced the little man to look directly at him. “Farelli doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, so he sure as hell doesn’t know how to speak anything besides English. That means you went along for all of the talks with the Indians.” When he didn’t get an answer, Clint barked, “Didn’t you?”

  The translator nodded and then nearly jumped off the ground when another stick of dynamite was tossed.

  “How long have you worked with Farelli?” Clint asked.

  “I’ve…I’ve been with the colonel since…I’ve…” Whenever the translator started to speak, he was cut short by more gunfire and the pounding of hooves as a group of Indians caught the soldiers’ attention.

  Clint looked up to Ahiga and saw the Navajo toss him a short wave. “My braves are drawing fire,” Ahiga said. “Nothing more.”

  “Keep talking,” Clint said to the translator.

  “I’ve been with the colonel for two years!”

  “Go on.”

  Now that his tongue had been loosened, the words flowed out of him like water spilling from a bucket. “It’s been two years and I wasn’t allowed to transfer! The colonel said he liked working with me and he would pay me to stay on. He’s paid me enough to buy a ranch for my uncle, but he still wouldn’t let me go.”

  “I don’t want to hear about your uncle,” Clint snapped, “and I don’t want to hear about a ranch. Tell me what you know about Farelli and Chief Tolfox.”

  “They’ve been making these arrangements for about a year and a half. Every time they have to start over again, Tolfox takes on a new name.”

  “These attacks were arranged?” Clint asked.

  “Yes, all of them,” the translator sputtered. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he added, “Not all of them. The first one was real. Chief Proud Fox led an attack on a settlement in the Dakotas. Farelli was sent to deal with him and he offered to pay the Indians off rather than fight them. When he couldn’t come up with the money, Farelli stole from the Army.”

  “What did he steal?” Clint asked.

  “I don’t know. I was only there to translate, but I saw Army wagons carrying supplies, guns, you name it. All Farelli asked was that he get the credit for it and when he got promoted, he found Proud Fox again. They would meet to arrange where the attacks would take place and when they would stop.”

  “What happened this time?” Clint asked.

  “I don’t know!” As the translator spoke, tears began streaming down his narrow face. “I swear I don’t know! Please!”

  Clint couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed the translator by the arms and lifted him up. “It’s all right.”

  “No! He always sent Nolan to do his killing when he didn’t want to use soldiers! I thought he might just kill Tolfox, but Farelli wanted all of us dead. Now he’s blowing this whole place up just to get to me. Oh Lord, there’s nowhere for us to go!”

  When Clint had arranged for Ahiga to bring the translator to this spot at this time, his intention was to put the fear of God into the little fellow. Now that his plan had worked even better than he’d expected,
Clint couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Keeping his scowl firmly in place, Clint looked into the translator’s eyes and asked, “You want to live through this?”

  “Yes, yes, oh God, please—”

  “Fine,” Clint interrupted. “You’ll tell us everything you know about Farelli and you’ll repeat all of that to what ever Army tribunal presides over his court-martial.”

  “All right, all right! He’s trying to kill me anyway. I’ll do anything!”

  Looking to Ahiga, Clint said, “Take him somewhere safe. Which way would I go to catch up with Tolfox?”

  “Elsu will take you.”

  Upon hearing his name, one of the nearby Navajo pointed his horse away from camp and waved for Clint to follow.

  “You shouldn’t waste time,” Ahiga warned. “Elsu moves very swiftly.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Ahiga surely hadn’t exaggerated his partner’s love for speed. It was all Clint could do to climb into his saddle and race after the other Navajo as Ahiga dragged the translator away. In the camp, Farelli and his men seemed to be amusing themselves by laying waste to everything they could find and didn’t stop until they’d blown apart each and every wagon in the area.

  A few shots were fired in Clint’s direction by some overly eager soldiers, but Elsu had a big head start and Eclipse wasn’t rattled by any amount of gunfire. With a few quick turns and a flick of the reins, Clint had put the camp behind him and was soon well out of the soldiers’ firing range.

  Elsu was a slender Indian who looked to be somewhere in his late teens. His thick black hair was just past shoulder-length and the clothes he wore complemented his ability to ride like a flicker of lightning. Tanned leather britches hugged him like a second skin and the feathers tied to his arms and head fluttered in the wind as if they were still attached to a bird’s wing. When he looked over his shoulder, the young Navajo smiled to find Clint so close behind him. Elsu pointed ahead and to the left.

  Nodding at the younger man’s signal, Clint snapped his reins and nearly closed the distance between himself and Elsu in a matter of seconds. They needed to ride for several miles, but the two horses covered the distance in a flash. Toward the end of the ride, Clint felt as if he was in a simple race instead of the web that kept getting more twisted by the moment. At least this time, Clint was the one doing the twisting.

  As soon as they got within sight of the cluster of horses carrying Mingan and the rest of his tribe, Clint motioned for Elsu to slow down. Reluctantly, the young Navajo complied.

  “What do you know about Tolfox?” Clint asked.

  Elsu scowled and replied, “That he thinks he is the leader of our people and the only place he wants to lead us is into war.”

  “Do you know about his arrangement with the colonel?”

  “Everyone knows about it, but nobody dares to speak against it. Tolfox leads just enough Crow to stand beside him. His braves will kill women and children. We have seen it. We do not stand against them to protect our own women and children.”

  “Why don’t you just leave?” Clint asked.

  “The same reason you go through all this trouble to ruin the colonel’s attack when you could have simply ridden in the other direction.”

  “Fair enough, I suppose,” Clint admitted. “What’s the best way I can get Tolfox and his men away from the rest of the tribe?”

  “Say the colonel wants to have a talk,” Elsu suggested with confidence. “Tolfox will step forward with all of his men and will not allow anyone else to come.”

  “Is that how it’s always been?”

  Elsu nodded once. “Chief Mingan thought Tolfox was speaking to the colonel for the good of the tribe. This is before he knew…”

  Knowing that the young Navajo didn’t want to say anything to cast his elder in a bad light, Clint finished Elsu’s thought with, “Before he knew there was a trickster in your midst?”

  “That’s right. Once he knew, it was too late.”

  “It might not be too late. Tell me one thing, and I want you to be honest with me.”

  “All right.”

  “How many have your people killed?” Clint asked. “I’m not talking about your tribe. I mean your people.”

  “Ahiga is He Who Fights,” Elsu replied. “Ahiga has always fought, but he is no murderer. He rode with Tolfox only once. After that, he was only brought along to talk with the colonel so the white men would know we had many braves in our tribe.”

  “And the attacks on the wagons?”

  “They were made by Tolfox and his Crow. The Crow are killers. They are the murderers.”

  Clint narrowed his eyes and asked, “How many Crow have you known?”

  Reluctantly, Elsu lowered his head. “I have only known Tolfox and his men.”

  “That’s right. Don’t think too far ahead of yourself, boy. You deal with every man as he comes along. Let him show who he is and go from there. You understand?”

  Elsu nodded.

  “Good. I’ve already dealt with Ahiga and your Chief Mingan enough to know they’re good men. I’ve heard and seen more than enough to know what kind of man Farelli is. Let’s have a closer look at Tolfox.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  Separating Tolfox and his men was just as easy as Elsu had predicted it would be. In fact, Clint was surprised at how easy it was. All he needed to do was catch up to the rest of the tribe and say the magic words. Once Clint announced that Farelli wanted to have a word with someone from the tribe, Tolfox stepped forward and practically shoved Mingan aside. Since Ahiga was elsewhere keeping the translator safe, only a few Navajo braves remained and they didn’t want to leave the tribe unprotected.

  “It’s all right,” Clint said to Mingan. “You should stay here with your people. Can you see them to safety?”

  “Yes,” the old man replied. “But—”

  “There’s nothing else to say,” Clint cut in. “Your people need to be away from here and they need to go right now.”

  Mingan rode on the back of an old horse that looked strong enough to pull every last one of those wagons from the former camp. After stopping close enough for his horse and Eclipse to bump noses, Mingan whispered, “If there is talking to be done, it is time that I started doing it.”

  “There’ll be time for that later,” Clint assured him.

  With Tolfox and the small group of Crow warriors nearby, Clint focused his eyes on Mingan and held that gaze for a few more seconds. It seemed that enough was said in that gaze to get Clint’s point across. Mingan nodded solemnly and rode back to his people.

  “Time’s wasting,” Tolfox said.

  Clint rode past the Crow and motioned for them to follow. “Absolutely right. Let’s not waste any more.”

  Eclipse led the way and the Crow followed. Choosing a path that separated them from both the burning camp and the straggling Navajo, Clint led Tolfox for the better part of a mile until he could feel the men behind him getting restless. Before Tolfox could ask any questions, Clint pulled back on his reins and climbed down from his saddle.

  “This is the place,” Clint said.

  Tolfox looked around. The spot Clint had chosen was closed off by trees on one side and rocks on another. To the north, there was open land that stretched out for miles without much of anything to show for it. Every so often, the distant crackle of gunshots could be heard coming from the southeast.

  “Where is the colonel?” Tolfox demanded.

  “He’ll be along. I figured you might want to get here before he had a chance to get his men situated.”

  Tolfox nodded and eventually climbed down from his own saddle. Since Clint had settled in to lean against a tree with his arms folded across his chest, it seemed they weren’t going to be led anywhere else. The Crow warriors followed Tolfox’s lead and dismounted as well.

  After a few quiet seconds had passed, Clint said, “You know Farelli meant to kill you, right?”

  “Why would he do that? Ahiga told us you were allowed to leave so you c
ould learn what the soldiers were planning. Did you hear something about Farelli trying to kill me?”

  “Oh, I heard plenty of things. I knew he would try to burn down this camp the moment he found out where it was. That is, he’d burn it down if he was trying to make sure something got buried along the way.”

  Furrowing his brow, Tolfox said, “If you were one of Farelli’s spies, you wouldn’t have sent word that the soldiers would come and we would have all been killed in that attack.”

  “Go on.”

  “If you were protecting your own skin, you would have gone away and not come back.”

  “Very true,” Clint said.

  “So that means Ahiga and Mingan were right about you. They said you wanted to help our tribe and that’s all that remains.”

  “I do want to help the tribe. Too bad the same can’t be said about you.”

  Upon hearing that, all four of Tolfox’s men bristled. A few were armed with pistols and a couple had rifles as well. They all carried knives and every single one of them started to reach for one of their weapons.

  FORTY

  Tolfox extended one hand toward his men without taking his eyes away from Clint. Speaking one word in his own language, Tolfox calmed his men as if he could feel what every single one of them was about to do.

  “You’ve been dealing with Farelli for a while now,” Clint said. “What’s the deal been? Were you arranging the attacks and calling them off as Farelli saw fit? How much were you getting paid?”

  “I was working to help my tribe.”

  “You were attacking innocent families and travelers. Don’t put on an act with me because I’ve seen what you’ve done. I’ve heard it from Farelli, himself! You and your men killed Army soldiers. How was that supposed to help your tribe?”

  “We only killed soldiers when Farelli refused to pay!” Tolfox roared. “Did Farelli tell you that as well?”

  Clint had to use every bit of bluffing skill he’d learned throughout the years just to keep from smiling. In order to prod the Crow leader a bit more, Clint said, “He told me you were getting greedy and that it was too dangerous to have a bloodthirsty killer on his payroll.”

 

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