by J. T. Edson
“Just Doc,” Waco admitted. “And I’d bet all I’ve got in my pocket against your five thousand dollars in these bags I can guess why you’d be wanting Dusty and Lon to be around.”
“Go ahead,” Belle challenged, without needing to ask why the first name she had used was not included.
“You’re here looking to say, ‘Howdy, you-all’ to the gal who’s been trying to make folks think you and ‘your gang’ robbed the stage between Red Rock and Marana,” Waco assessed. “Which I reckon Blue Duck and Sammy Crane must be counting themselves real important, being part of your ‘gang.’ Don’t you have them around?”
“Not hereabouts,” Belle admitted. “You know, much as I hate to admit it, I always knew you were smart. But I didn’t know you ran to second sight.”
“How’s that?”
“Weren’t you waiting for me to arrive?”
“I can’t come right out truthful’ and say ‘yes’ to that. I was watching that yahoo dressed up so he reckons everybody’ll mistake him for a cowhand as’s dogging along our trail.”
“He walks more like one of those strange little men who think they’re girls,” the lady outlaw commented, having halted so as to convey the impression she was looking into the window of the shop they were passing. In reality, she had studied Dennis Orme for a few seconds and also the street beyond him. “But I doubt if that’s why you find him so interesting.”
“You doubt right,” Waco replied. “I only like gals when they are gals.”
“Then what is your interest in him?” Belle wanted to know.
“Could be the same’s you’ll have in him,” the blond asserted with confidence, as Belle and he started walking once more. “Have I won my bet?”
“You have,” the lady outlaw confirmed and all the levity had left her voice. “I don’t take kindly to having some god-damned lobby-Lizzie trying to have me blamed for crimes she’s doing.”
Which was true enough!
However, there was another reason for Belle to be hunting the gang who had robbed the stagecoach!
Having accompanied Pierre Henri Jaqfaye to his shop, the lady outlaw had had her supposition confirmed that he was far more than appeared on the surface. Although his sexual proclivities were more masculine than his behavior suggested, he had made no attempt to prove the fact. Instead, he had been all business and proved he was very competent in his—at least on the surface—subsidiary business. Admitting frankly he was an important member of an organization planning to control all criminal activity first in Arizona Territory and then, if successful, throughout the United States, he had explained how their ambitions had been placed in jeopardy by the indiscrete behavior of Senator Paul Michael Twelfinch II. Pointing out how she could be endangered by the woman pretending to be her while robbing the stagecoach, particularly as a passenger was murdered, he had asked what she intended to do about the situation. On being informed that she meant to go in search of her rival, he had asked if she would find out what happened to and, if possible, retrieve the incriminating pocketbook. She was not in favor of the aims of his organization, suspecting these could threaten the independence of people like herself, but the renumeration she had been offered added to a desire to clear her name had led her to agree.
Having had her specialized requirements satisfied—the clothing and expensive looking jewellery being produced by the Frenchman from his stock—and being promised a free hand, Belle had made her plans. Knowing their presence might inadvertantly give her away, she had telegraphed Blue Duck and Sammy Crane in a simple code, telling them to go into hiding until she contacted them. Then she had booked a seat on the next stagecoach from Tucson to Phoenix. Although she had been supplied with the little information available to Jaqfaye, lacking the added details which had become known to the Texans and Jedroe Franks, her instincts and knowledge of criminals had led her to assume the State Capital would offer the best starting point for her quest.
As she had said, on her arrival from Tucson, the lady outlaw had seen a potential ally in whatever lay ahead. Nor had she doubted that Waco would offer his services, which was why she had asked him to carry her baggage. In fact, she had already heard enough to believe he was in the State Capital engaged upon a similar mission to her own. The prospect was most satisfying to her. Until the meeting, she had been undecided as to what action she would take if she succeeded in locating the gang. With him by her side, she would not need to wait until she could send for her two men to join her.
Yet, despite knowing that—being a very close amigo of the only man who had ever and would ever have her love2—the young Texan was completely trustworthy and would never divulge anything he heard, Belle had a code of conduct by which she lived and it precluded her from telling him of the organization. For all that, in the not too distant future, he would play a major part in its downfall without needing any assistance or information from her.3
“Well now, could just be you’ve made a start at finding her already,” Waco drawled. “Trouble being, you looking so fancy and talking about the money you’ve just lost to me, you’ve got more than one feller on your trail.”
“You mean that loudly dressed, red faced dude across the street,” asked the lady outlaw, having noticed more than Orme while conducting her examination.
“Why sure,” the blond confirmed, grinning in admiration. “’Cepting, ’though he looks and talks like he’s from lil ole New York seeing’s how he hails from thereabouts, and isn’t dressed so quiet and tasteful as some of us good ole Texas boys, he’s segundo of a pretty fair-sized spread—as such are judged in Arizona.”
“And he’s a friend of yours?”
“He’s got that honor—Happen ‘honor’s’ the word you’d use.”
“I wouldn’t,” Belle said dryly, finding herself unable to resist falling into the kind of banter which frequently passed between the members of Ole Devil Hardin’s floating outfit no matter how grave the situation. “But don’t stop telling it so modestly!”
“He’s Pete Glendon,” Waco obliged. “Only we’re no so close amigos as I made it sound, seeing’s I haven’t found a chance for us to make habla. Was I asked, though, I’d reckon he’s after pretty much what we are.”
“Do you mind if I ask why you think that way?”
“No, ma’am.”
“All right then!” the lady outlaw was compelled to say when no information was forthcoming. “Why?—And just you wait until the next time I see Betty Hardin. You know how us girls stand together.”
“You wouldn’t do nothing so ornery ’n’ mean’s to set her on my trail?” Waco asked, in well simulated horror, being aware of how effectively Elizabeth “Betty” Hardin could deal with those who she felt had not behaved in a satisfactory fashion.4 “Not that I’m scared, mind—!”
“‘Dear Betty,’ my letter will start—!” Belle claimed, sounding ominous.
“Calf rope, ma’am!” the blond responded, making the traditional cowhand expression of surrender. “Like I said, not that I’m scared mind, but here-all’s how I read the sign.”
“You’ve done well,” the lady outlaw praised, after the Texan had told of what had happened since Doc Leroy and he had belatedly become involved in the holdup of the stagecoach. “But is that man following us, the trying-to-be cowhand, I mean, the ‘woman’ who led the gang?”
“Nope, just one of the lil Injuns,” Waco corrected. “The big chief’s a woman sure as you are and, unless I’m missing my guess, a pretty smart one.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Belle stated. “Where is she at?”
“Right here in town,” the blond replied. “Fact being, ’most all the gang are around and about. Which I’m real relieved they are.”
“Why?”
“Way we took all that money from them, I got to figuring after we’d done it the fool way Doc picked out, there was a chance we’d throwed such a scare into them’s they’d head back East so fast you’d reckon their butts was burning. Which isn’t what
you’d be wanting.”
“I want my fingers in her hair!” Belle said savagely.
“Was I all mean and ornery, like some as’s close by,” Waco drawled. “I’d keep quiet and let you go ahead unknowing. But, being all noble, forgiving and good—!”
“Betty Hardin!” the lady outlaw reminded.
“Natured,” the blond continued, as if the interruption had not happened. “I’ll just say you’d best watch her real good while you’re doing said grabbing hold. Doc and me got there just too late to see it, but Jed told us she’s a better’n fair hand at fisticuffs.”
“Fisticuffs?”
“They get into what’s called a ‘boxing ri—’!”
“I know what ‘fisticuffs’ are, but do you mean she does?”
“She whomped that yahoo following us real good, way Jed told it,” Waco explained. “And, when we bluffed them into handing over the money, it was her that all those knobheads turned to for it.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, should we lock horns,” Belle promised, knowing she had received a genuine warning. “Where is she?”
“Working at the Cattleman’s Hotel, along of the lil blonde gal’s runs with her pack,” Waco supplied. “One of the men’s there, as well, playing like a guest.”
“Do you think we could persuade some of them that confession is good for the soul?” the lady outlaw inquired, having considerable respect for the judgment of the young cowhand as she knew him to be far shrewder than his levity suggested was the case.
“Likely, seeing’s how Lon’s taught me some of his Grandpappy Long Walker’s Comanch’ tricks and you’ve likely learned a few from those part-Indian boys of your’n,” Waco guessed. “Least-wise, we could get at least some of the hombres and most likely the lil blonde gal talking—to us. Trouble being, some god-damned law-twisting son-of-a-b—gun might tell whichever it was to say they was lying ’cause they was scared when they got into court and it’d only be our word against their’n. Which I don’t reckon you’d be wanting to get into the witness stand, comes to that.”
“I wouldn’t!” Belle admitted vehemently. “The Pink-Eyes5 are too close on my heels for that and, after what happened to two of them back in Tucson, I wouldn’t want to let them lay hands on me.”
“Then we’ll have to make a stab at getting them to show their hand,” the blond asserted. “And, was I asked, going by the way you’re dressed and jewelled, not to mention bawling at the top of your voice about that five thousand dollars you’ve just now lost to me, I’d say that’s what you was figuring on doing all along.”
“It was,” the lady outlaw confirmed.
“Which only goes to prove’s how great minds think alike,” the blond declared. “Because Doc, Jed and me’ve been working along that same trail.”
“I see it’s the Cattlemen’s Hotel you’re taking me to,” Belle remarked, before any more of the scheme could be described.
“It’s the best place in town,” Waco replied. “Only you won’t be getting your fingers into her hair there, not unless you go into the bar room. Which for-real ladies aren’t allowed in, even if they sound like they’re French.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, too,” Belle promised. “How will I know them?”
“Anyways, happen you aren’t sure,” the blond finished, having described Sarah Siddenham, Fiona Crenshaw and Thomas O’Carroll as they now appeared. “I’ll have Doc point them out for you.”
“What’s he doing?” the lady outlaw asked.
“Being a professional gambling man,” Waco replied. “He’s doing right well at it and they’re watching him.”
On arriving at their destination, Belle reverted to her French manner of speaking. Presenting the blond with a dollar, for “being zo kindly,” she gave her attention to the desk clerk. Pocketing the coin and grinning, Waco strolled outside and found his path was blocked.
“Howdy, Pete,” the blond greeted, noticing William “Fast Billy” Cromaty hovering to one side in an ideal position to assist the foreman in case of gun play. “I hardly knowed you, all dressed up so quiet and fancy.”
“I’ve allus been knowed for my good taste,” Glendon answered, being clad in a pearl gray derby hat, a black and white check suit with a mauve vest, a salmon-pink shirt to which was attached a celluloid collar, a necktie of numerous clashing colors and black town boots with white spats. However, he was still wearing his gunbelt. “That was a right nice lady you toted the bags for. Do you know her from somewhere?”
“She never even told me her name,” Waco replied, with complete truth. “Gave me a whole dollar, though.”
“That was mighty generous of her,” the foreman said dryly. “How’s about you, me ’n’ Fast Billy going off some place where we can make us some talk?”
“Now that’s right strange,” the young Texan drawled. “I was just fixing to say the self-same thing to you.”
Chapter 15
THIS IS A HOLD UP, I’M BELLE STARR
“OH MY GOOD GOD, CHARLEY!” FIONA CRENSHAW suddenly screeched, clutching at her mid-section. “Stop the coach, my time’s come and I’m starting!”
Listening to and watching the buxom little blonde, Belle Starr, Waco, Doc Leroy, Jedroe Franks and Peter Glendon were each willing to concede she was an excellent actress!
Accompanying the foreman and William “Fast Billy” Cromaty to a sparsely occupied saloon in the less affluent section of Phoenix, the blond young Texan had found sufficient privacy to satisfy his and their mutual curiosity.
Without divulging too many details, as Major Bertram Mosehan had stressed the need for discretion concerning the force of peace officers being formed until they were ready to commence operations, Glendon had done the majority of talking for himself and the lanky cowhand. Claiming the injured shotgun messenger was a friend, which was true although they had not seen each other since their Army days, he had said he was hoping to flush out the gang who had robbed the stagecoach between Red Rock and Marana. He was posing as a whiskey drummer, hence his gaudy attire, who would be carrying a large sum of money upon his person when he left town.
Admitting to having an identical motive where the lady outlaw was concerned, but refraining to mention how recently they had been in each other’s company, Waco had told the two men as much as he had passed on to her. He had found they had reached similar conclusions with regards to the Summer Complaints and Deputy Sheriff Jackson Martin, even before having seen Sarah Siddenham, Fiona and the male members of the group in Phoenix. They had laughed heartily on learning of the source from which had come the money being used by Doc and Franks for a similar purpose to that of Glendon. In addition to what he had won since his arrival, being an excellent poker player with an equally thorough knowledge of fair and cheating methods in many forms of gambling, the slender Texan was displaying a sizeable bankroll where various of the Summer Complaints could see it. For his part, particularly in the same company, the Easterner had boasted of how he tricked the outlaws into believing he was poor when he had had over five thousand dollars belonging to his employer hidden in the cheap trunk they had not thought to search.
On Glendon having suggested—with the full agreement of Cromaty—that they all worked together from then on, Waco had not hesitated to give agreement on behalf of himself and his two companions. He was satisfied the pair would do, as cowhands on a trail drive often said when referring to one of the most hazardous conditions they could encounter while moving a herd of half wild longhorn cattle, “to ride the river with when the water was up over the willows.”
Still without betraying her true identity, despite his belief that Glendon and Cromaty would not turn her over to the authorities, nor trust him the less for being her willing accomplice, the blond had said the “rich lil ole French gal” planned to return to Tucson on the Friday stagecoach. When he had suggested they made their attempt to capture the gang on the same vehicle, Cromaty objected on the grounds it would put the “foreign lady” in jeopardy and the foreman had given
his concurrence. The young Texan had countered this by pointing out that Dennis Orme had already seen her jewellery and heard the references to the “five thousand dollars travelling money,” so the gang might decide to rob the stagecoach upon which she was travelling without the added inducements they intended to offer as bait. Declaring they would do everything possible to avoid harm befalling the “French gal,” Waco had won his way.
Following the lines of action already set in motion, the conspirators had soon felt sure they were achieving the desired results. With the exception of the blond, who was keeping in the background and not setting himself up directly as a prospective victim for robbery, the men had each noticed various of the Summer Complaints paying careful attention to their activities. Meeting Waco by arrangement, Belle had said the same applied to her. Having contrived to be selected for the comfortable role of hotel guest, Thomas O’Carroll had tried to make her acquaintance and advised against displaying so much jewellery or talking about the “travelling money.”
On Wednesday, satisfied all was ready, the conspirators had respectively announced in the hearing of the Summer Complaints that they intended to go to Tucson by the Friday stagecoach!
Of the young Easterners, only Fiona and Stanley Crowther had been in sight on Thursday morning!
Arriving at the depot of the Arizona State Stage Line early Friday morning, Belle, Doc, Franks and Glendon had discovered that the little blonde and Crowther were also travelling as passengers. Without being able to discuss the matter, each of the intended victims had guessed how the stagecoach was to be stopped for the hold up to take place.
Clad in a cheap black “spoon” bonnet shaped like the rear end of a Conestoga wagon’s canopy, a threadbare brown coat over a gingham frock and high buttoned shoes, Fiona looked like the wife of a poor farmer. The hat covered all her hair and she had removed the heavy make-up employed while working as a saloongirl in the bar room of the Cattlemen’s Hotel. What was more, by careful padding and a walk appropriate to such a condition, she had given the impression of being in a well advanced stage of pregnancy. Wearing a cheap suit, collarless white shirt, heavy black walking boots and round topped, circular brimmed black hat such as was worn by members of the Grange,1 Crowther was also a sufficiently good actor to pass as the kind of husband she would be expected to have.