"Air that you, Cap'n Fog?"
"This's me," Dusty agreed. "And I'm town marshal here."
Even those of the trail crew who did not ride with Goodnight on the third drive to Fort Sumner had heard of Dusty
Fog. The men who made the drive recalled him all too well and knew better than to cross his path in what he considered to be his duty.
'That danged Injun never allowed that you was marshal,** the old timer said aggrievedly. "And me sharing my makings with him.**
While the Kid delivered news of Brownton's peculiar ideas, he had failed to mention who ran the marshal's office in Mulrooney. Questioned later on the lapse by the indignant old timer, he replied, "I figured you'd learn soon enough.'
Rising and dusting his clothes, the potential window-breaker studied the front of the office and exclaimed, "I never see a finer piece of glass-fixing. It'd be plumb sinful to destroy a work of art like that."
"Which same I'm scared of riling Cap'n Fog as well," grinned the old timer. "So I per-poses, seconds and thirds that this-here fool meeting adjourns to the hotel, sees Colonel Charlie for our pay and goes out to spend it. If we're going to wind up in pokey, let's get good and drunk first."
"Go to it," Dusty told them. "Only keep your guns in leather and horses on the streets."
With that he stood aside and watched Waco hand over the runaway horse to its owner. Exchanging laughter and cheerful comments, the trail hands followed the old timer on his way to carry out his suggestions.
"It's going to be a lively night tonight, boy," Dusty told Waco as they watched the departure. "And afore it's through you'll wish you'd six arms and at least eight legs."
"Did I do right, facing down that young cuss at the Fair Lady?" Waco asked a touch worriedly.
"Do you reckon you did?"
"I figured that he had to be stopped."
"You figured it right and acted righter," Dusty assured him. "Sure he had to be stopped. But if you'd thrown that bullet into him, the gandy-dancers'd've remembered it. They'll not forget the way you acted either, and it'll pav better than shooting that fool kid. Now they know how well you can handle a gim—and that you know just how much to use it."
"What now?" asked the youngster, looking relieved at receiving Dusty's approbation. He had been worried about how the small Texan might regard his actions in dealing with Wicker and felt satisfied now he knew.
'*WeTI grab a meal and do like I said in the Fair Lady, make a start at earning our pay," Dusty replied.
"Now me," Waco said. "I'd reckon we've already done pretty fair at that."
With the meal over, Waco began to find out just how much work a conscientious peace officer did in a day. A marshal of Wild Bill Hickok's type spent most of his time sitting in card games, or loafing in a favoinite saloon, only appearing if called upon to quell a disturbance. Wyatt Earp became conspicuous onlv when little danger threatened, he had plenty of tough Dacking, and somebody of importance was on hand to witness his Tieroics'. Although not a professional lawman. Dusty had been trained to tiy to prevent trouble breaking out, rather than arrive and attempt to halt it once started.
So he and Waco took to the streets, keeping an unobtrusive but unceasing watch. The yoimgster, cowhand at heart, bewailed the fact that nobody had warned him that being a deputy entailed so much foot-work or he would never have taken the fool chore. He also listened as Dusty explained the various specialised aspects of what they did, whether it be breaking up a fight or something which, on the face of it, appeared to be the most simple routine.
^"Try that door," Dusty told him as they walked by a warehouse near the railroad depot. "Make sure it's locked."
"Sin-e," Waco replied and started to obey,
"Hold it right therel" Dusty snapped as the yoimgster reached towards the door's handle.
"What's up?" Waco hissed, right hand fanning gun-wards.
"Suppose there's somebody inside, robbing the place," Dusty said, walking forward. "He hears you trying the door and figures it's a watchman, or somebody coming and throws lead. What'd it do to you, stood where you are?"
"Make a hole in my fool hide, I reckon," Waco answered as he studied his position in relation to the door. "Only there's nobody inside."
"If there is, time you've learned different it's too late. No matter whether you're certain the place's empty, always stand to the side and reach around to try the door. That way you stand a better than fair chance of being missed if anybody is inside and cuts loose."
"You must reckon I'm awful green."
"Sure. But I figure you ve got good enough sense to learn.**
"What happens if somebody's inside and shoots?** Waco asked after moving to the wall and reaching around to try the door handle.
"A whole lot depends on how many of *em you reckon*re inside and if you*ve got a pard with you," Dusty repUed. "If the place's only one room and the door's weak enough, bust in fast with a gun in yoiu: hand.**
Continuing on their way. Dusty explained other matters arising from Waco's question. Always eager to learn, Waco listened and stored the knowledge away for future use. In later years, as an Arizona Ranger, coimty sheriflE and finally U.S. marshal, he found Dusty's teachings invaluable and following the precautionary rules laid down by the small Texan often saved his life.
Not wishing to crowd too much detail on to the youngster at one time, Dusty failed to mention one elementary, but vital, rule. Knowing Waco's abiUty in the line that rule covered, he felt that no explanation would be needed. Later events proved him wrong.
INNOCENT AS LON LOOKS, OR GUILTY-LOOKING AS HELL
"I tell you, Lon, this here's a fool, no-account, no-good chore,'* Waco stated as he walked with the Ysabel Kid through the rear streets of Mulrooney on the morning of his second day as a deputy marshal. *T)amned a being a lawman's not worse than following a plough or herding sheep."
"Now me, I wouldn't know about that, not having done either of 'em," the Kid replied.
"No, and you didn't do none of the walking last nightl" yelped the youngster indignantly, "All you done yesterday was bust up some poor feller's wagon and trail 'round the coimtry bumming smokes offen cowhands. Ole Dusty made me walk near on a hundred miles. We stopped cowhands shooting up main street, gandy-dancers and buffalo hunters chawing each others' ears off in fights, toted drunks to jail. Then what happens?"
"You tell me," suggested the Kid, having returned at midnight from spreading the word about Brownton's welcome to various trail drives.
"I'll tell you for surel" Waco yelled. "That mean boss we got hauls me out of bed near on at d^y-break, when I figured that being a peace oflBcer I could sleep town hours, and has me help get all those jaspers we'd stowed away in the pokey on their feet."
"They'd got to clean out the cells afore going afore the judge. Or would you want to be the boy who does it?''
"Like ole Pickle-Barrel says, they mussed 'em up, leave them do the cleaning," Waco answered, referring to the swamper from the Fair Lady Saloon who had been hired by Dusty to act as jailer.
"TTien what's gnawing at your craw, boy?" grinned the Kid, knowing just how httle the youngster's complaints meant
"So we has them get everything good and clean. Comes time for them to go to court and Fm figuring on riding a chair at the back while the judge fines 'em— So then wnat does Dusty say?"
"I'd never guess."
"He says, *You and Lon go take a walk around town!' That's what he says. Take a walk,' he says. And me with a damned great slab of crowbait just eating up hay and com like it's going out of fashion, then getting all feisty through not being rid. Dammit, I walked all around this town last night."
"It looks better in daylight," commented the Kid.
"Nothing looks better when you're walking!" Waco objected.
Despite his complaints and protests, the yoimgster knew why Ehisty had given the order. The time might come when their hves w^ould depend on knowing what lay behind the buildings of the main street, or how to reach a partic
ular part of towTi by an inconspicuous route. Which gave a serious purpose to the stroll without lessening his objections to performing that most distasteful business, walking.
So far onlv a portion of the buildings were occupied, the original settlers having combined their resources to erect properties for sale to people attracted by their town's prosperity. Dusty had sent out his two deputies to learn which places were still empty and note the location of tempting prospects for robbery.
"There's one place we shouldn't need to worry about," the Kid remarked, nodding to a good-sized house standing in a large square of land surroimded by a picket fence.
"That's for sure," Waco agreed. 'They re starting to fix it up."
*They never waste any time," the Kid replied.
Several women wearing nuns' clothing worked around the property, digging the ground or tidying up the outside of the
building. Waco strolled over to where a small novice was applying white paint to the picket fence.
"Howdy, ma'am/' he greeted. **You-all settling dovm all rightr
Although the girl tinned a pert face towards him, she did not offer to replv. A shadow fell across the fence and Waco found that anomer member of the convent had come over. The newcomer equalled big Sarah in size and heft, had a face wdth strength of will and humour in its lines and wore a slightly different style of habit to the novice.
**We're imder a vow of silence here, yoimg man,** the big woman told him in a broad Irish brogue. **So Sister Teresa's not allowed to answer you."
'Thanks for telling me, ma'am.''
"But how come the vow doesn't apply to me?" smiled the woman. "That's what you're wondering, isn't it?"
"Yes'm," admitted Waco with a grin.
"Somebody has to deal with people from the outside, and it falls on the senior sister imtil the mother superior arrives. You're one of the town marshal's deputies, are you?"
"Sxnre, ma'am."
"Tell your marshal that if he needs any help I can give to come and ask."
"I'll do that, ma'am," Waco promised and rejoined the ICid. **What do you reckon to that, Lon. These gals aren't allowed to talk."
"I've heard tell of it afore, dovm in Mexican convents," the Kid replied. "Come on, they're one bimch who won't concern us."
After toming the convent's side of the town, Waco and the Kid swung over to the other section beyond the railroad tracks. There they saw what they regarded as an ideal site for a brothel; not knowing that Freddie, realising the need would arise for such an establishment, had planned the placing of the building wdth that use in mind when helping to lay out the towni.
Before going back to the oflBce, the deputies called in at the livery bam to check on their horses. Another large corral next to the barn's sizeable compound held the stock of the tovm's freight company. Halting to look over the harness horses, they leaned against the corral fence.
An old timer carrying a dinner-pail in one hand and coffeepot in the other came through the alley between the
bam and the freight outfit's warehouse. Ambling up to tfie deputies, he directed a spurt of tobacco juice into the water of the horse-trough halfway between the corral and the building.
"Danged uppity shiny-butts,** he said.
"Who, us?" asked the Kid.
''Nawl Them two milk-faced dudes up to the oflBce there. Can't leave all their fool paper-work to go out and eat, so I have to tote it to them. Which same I wouldn't mind if the office was on the groimd, but I have to go up them steps to hand it over."
Following the direction of the oldster's indignant glare, the Kid and Waco looked to where a flight of stairs led to a first floor outer door.
**Sure is a sinful sin, brother," the Kid declared.
**You never said a righter word," the old man agreed and walked slowly away. Then he halted and looked back. 'That safe they've got up there's mighty strong. You boys don't need to stand guard on it."
'That went right by me," the Kid replied.
*T)idn't you laiow? They've got a big old Chubb safe up there to hold the company's wealth."
"We didn't know," admitted Waco.
T wouldn't've mentioned it, only you pair being lawmen it's all right."
T/Ct's hope nobody else mentions it," the Kid said as the old man continued his interrupted delivery. "I reckon DustyH want us to keep an eye on the back here, safe or no safe."
On hearing about the safe, Dusty confirmed the Kid's guess by tellkig them to make periodic checks on the rear of the freight outfit. Not that they needed to start right off, first they could relax at the office and clean the weapons— Winchester rifles, shotgims and a long-ranged Sharps buffalo gun—supplied for their use.
The rest of the day went by without serious incident. Hearing from the first arrivals of the fair manner in which the town was run, other trail crews held down their boisterous behaviour to reasonable levels. As for the railroad workers, the story of how the law had handled O'Sullivan's gandy-gang lost nothing in the telling. No other construction crew felt like chancing such leniency should they cut up extra rough.
Dming the day three separate visits were made by citizens
of Brownton, all with the intention of studying the situation. Their findings caused some alarm and despondency, also a desire by a number of citizens to migrate to Mulrooney's richer pastures.
At noon on the third day Waco accompanied Dusty and the other deputies to meet the east-bound train on its arrival from Brownton. There the youngster saw how Dusty dissuaded various unwanted elements from taking up even temporary residence after their desertion of what they regarded as the other town's sinking ship. After some very plain talk from Freddie Woods, who came along to give civic approval of Dusty's actions, a madam called Lily Gouch received permission to buy the property selected as a brothel. Other business people also gained access, but a number of petty crooks, card-sharks and confidence tricksters continued with the train when it pulled out. During the weeding-out process, Waco saw Dusty apply an iron fist without a velvet glove and learned from the sight.
One man who arrived from Brownton not only received admittance but, despite being a professional gambler, was made welcome. Having known Frank Derringer as an honest player and friend. Dusty offered to take him on as a deputy marshal. Among Mulrooney's civic ordnances, one gave the marshal's office the right to examine any gambling device and to order its destruction should it prove dishonest. While a straight man himself. Derringer knew how to detect crooked moves or equipment as a means of self-defence. His agreement to Dusty's suggestion not only put a valuable weapon in the hands of the law, but paved the way for Waco to gain a very thorough knowledge of all aspects of gambling.
Although he had an arrangement to take Babsy on a buggy ride that evening, the first opportunity to present itself since becoming a deputy, Waco agreed to accompany Dusty and Derringer to an inspection of the gambling devices at the Fair Lady and Wooden Spoon—the only other saloon yet open. The tall, slim gambler fixed his badge to the lapel of his black cutaway jacket. He wore a white broadcloth shirt, string tie, striped trousers and town boots, while an ivory-handled Army Colt hung in a tied-down holster on his right leg. Unless Waco missed his guess, the gun had seen some use.
"Where's Lon?" Derringer asked as they left the office.
"Down to the store teaching the owner how to shoot,* Waco replied.
"Lon giving shooting lessons?"
'"Why sure. He allowed it to be his civic duty to help a tax-paying citizen learn how to defend hisself—and that Sarah Bimbaum's a right pretty lil gal."
Which explained the Kid's eagerness to instruct storekeeper Bimbaum in the art of handling a gim.
A trio of men rode by Dusty*s party and swung their leg-weary mounts in the direction of the Wooden Spoon Saloon. Although Waco studied them as they passed, he attached little importance to their arrival. Unshaven, clad in range clothes that showed hard wear and each with a low-hanging gun at his side, to Waco they looked just hke the majority or trail hands
who came north with the herds. Nor did he read any significance in the way they tossed their reins over the hitching rail on dismounting, instead of fastening them to it. Most of Clay Allison's crew did the same, in case a very hurried departure should be necessary.
However the youngster noticed one thing of interest. In the days when he rode for Clay Allison, the sight of another man's horse about to throw a shoe would not have passed without comment. As a deputy marshal he felt that he ought to warn the man in case the deficiency had not been detected.
"Hey, mister," he called, moving sUghtly ahead of his companions. 'Hold it a min—."
At the first word the three men turned. They had already left the horses and were about to step on to the sidewalk. Surprise flashed on to the faces of the two outside men at discovering that the two cowhands and professional gambler they had passed wore law badges and were coming towards them. Although at first the centre man showed no concern, his companions clearly had no desire to make the acquaintance of peace oflScers. Both immediately started reaching for their guns and he followed their lead.
Two things kept Waco alive that day; Dusty's knowledge of a lawman's most basic rule and the small Texan's ambidextrous prowess.
"Look out, boyi" he yelled, thrusting Waco aside with his right hand while the left flickered across to the butt of the off-side Colt.
For all that Waco came close to death.
Although last of the trio to start moving, the centre man beat the other two to the shot. Flame ripped from the barrel of his Colt and the bullet missed the staggering youngster by inches. If Dusty had failed to recognise the danger, or had moved less rapidly, the lead would have torn into Waco's body. Before the man could change his aim or fire again, Dusty's Colt barked and he shot to kill. There was no other way. Already the man had shown considerable ability at throwing lead and proved he had reason to fear the approach of law enforcement officers. Taking chances with such a man paid off only in grieving kin-folks and tombstones. So Dusty sent a .44 calibre conical bullet into the man's head and ended his menace instantly.
The making of a lawman Page 6