With that he lunged forward, scooped the Ballard from the boot, lined it waist high in Waco's direction then squeezed the trigger. Only a dull, dry click rewarded his efforts and a startled curse broke from him.
"The scatter's got no caps on it either," Waco warned as Vic dropped the Ballard and swung towards Tommy's horse. "And I'm a deputy marshal, not an owlhoot."
Give Vic his due, he knew enough to yell *calf-rope' and quit. Instead of trying to get around Tommy's mount to the useless shotgun, he stood fast.
"What's up, deputy?" Tommy asked in a worried voice. "Let's take a walk down to the jail house and talk about it, shall we?" Waco replied.
**Why'd you want us?" Tommy began. "We dont know any—."
"Hush up. Tommy boyi" Vic interrupted, speaking in a mixture of urgent warning and reassurance. "Likely the deputy reckons he knows what he's doing. Just for the hell of it, though, what's up, deputy?"
"I figured you'd know that," Waco told him. "Let's go." "Anything you say, you're pointing the gun. How about our bosses?"
"Take them along—^from the right side."
Most white men mounted their horses from the left, so the animals became accustomed to it and showed a marked reluctance to letting a rider go up on the right side. Waco doubted if the nesters had taken the time to train their mounts in accepting them coming up to the saddle from the Indian side*, so ordered them to lead from the right to lessen their chances of escape.
As he walked along behind the pair, placed so that he could observe them both and coimter any hostile moves, Waco studied them. Watching and listening, he noticed that Vic did most of the talking. It almost seemed that the taller nester set out to jolly his companion on, or relieve the other's anxiety. At first the attempt met with no success. Tommy still continued to act nervous and scared.
"Ole Tonmiy's worried about what his pappyTl say,** Vic remarked over his shoulder to Waco. "Him being arrested after just coming out of a goosing-ranch and all.*'
"Yeah," Tommy went on with the air of one suddenly presented with the answer to a problem. "Paw's not going to hke it."
"Let's hope he doesn't have anything worse not to like," Waco answered dryly. "Only we all know he will.**
"Hell, you can't arrest us for going into Lily's place,** Vic replied. "At least I've never heard about it if you can. And the jails'd be full if you start."
Waco ignored die comment, but noticed that some of Tommy's nervousness appeared to be going. Possibly the smaller nester's worry did rise from the cause Vic suggested. Kansas dirt-farmers had a reputation among cowhands for being pious, church-going folk strong against aU kinds of sin. So Tommy might feel concern, if not fear, at his father's reaction to learning where he had spent the evening.
Although the youngster could form no opinion as to the likeUness of their guilt or innocence, he felt sure that he had guessed correctly. Most likely Dusty knew of a way to reach the truth. It would be interesting to see how the small Texan handled the affair.
Once again Waco started to show his instinctive flair for law enforcement. He decided against taking his prisoners in through the front of the builcSng. Doing so meant going along the main street, in full view of anybody who chanced to be on it. Possibly other nesters were in town and he wanted to keep the pair's arrest a secret until after Dusty had
interviewed them. So he directed them to go to the rear of the building and leave their horses at the small civic poimd corral.
As Waco escorted his prisoners towards the pole-walled poimd, he saw a human shape drawing away from the rear of the office building. Having retained his Colt in hand while bringing in the two nesters, he did not need to draw it and tensed ready to meet any trouble that might start. It seemed highly unlikely that any other dirt-farmers knew of the pair's fate, or would try to take them from his custody by force, but he still watched the approaching shape. Drawing closer though it might be, he still could not say for sure whether it be man or woman. Whoever it was could have come through the alley from the street, or been at the rear of the building.
If it should be the latter, there might be some fuss. Waco knew the position of Smith's cell and remembered Dusty^s comments about the Cansole gang attempting to contact the captured outlaw. Should that figure be one of the gang, he might take exception to coming up against a deputy.
Then Waco realised that the approaching shape was a woman dressed in flowing clothes of a special kind. As she came closer, he recognised her as the new mother superior from the convent. She slackened her pace on seeing the three young men, darting a glance around her.
"Howdy ma'am," Waco greeted. **I sure hope we didn't spook you too much."
"OhI It's you, deputy," she answered, walking forward. "Good evening. I've been asked to come out and see one of our people who's taken sick."
"Can you find the place, ma'am?"
"Yes. I've been to see her before."
With that the woman passed by and Waco continued to head his prisoners in the (firection of the pound. After fastening their horses to the central horizontal pole, the two yoimg men went to the rear door. Watching them all the time, Waco reached around and knocked on it.
"Yeah?" came Pickle-Barrel's voice.
"Southrons hear your country call you," Waco replied, using the first line of General Samuel Pike's words to the tune 'Dixie'. During the War, the same line served as a password between Confederate spies.
When making plans to circumvent other escape efforts, Dusty had decided on the words as a sign to let the jailer
know a friend requested admittance. So Pickle-Barrel did not hesitate to open die door. That he held his old Colt Dragoon showed no lack of faith, only a commendable sense of caution.
"Whore this pair?^ the old-timer inquired, eyeing the nesters up and down.
"Couple of gents I reckon Dusty'll want to meet,** Waco rephed.
"Best make 'em welcome then," Pickle-Barrel declared, waving the nesters inside and re-locldng the door after Waco had entered. "You gents don't mind if we'ns go through with the formahties, I reckon.**
"You seem to know what it's all about," Vic answered calmly. "I'm damned if I do, but 111 go along with you."
"Thankee," gnmted the old jailer, darting a long glance at Vic's face. Then he swung nis attention to Waco. "You searched 'em yet?"
"Figured to wait until I could see what I was doing first,** the yoimgster replied. "It's alius as well. Only let's do it in the back here."
"It's your game, young feller," Pickle-Barrel stated, although he could guess why Waco had made the request **You watch the lil 'im while I tend to his pard."
Keeping guard while the jailer deftly searched first Vic, then Tommy, Waco felt a growing concern. The contents of their pockets proved to be nothing more nor less than one might expect; a jack-knife, some string, handkerchiefs, not more than five dollars between them and a battered old watch which certainly did not belong to either of the robbed clerks.
Towards the end of the very thorough search, Dusty and the Kid walked into the oflBce. They came through to tiie rear at Waco's call and listened to his reasons for bringing in the pair of nesters. However Dusty's reaction when told came as a complete smprise to Waco.
"You reckon this pair could've pulled the hold-up?" Dusty demanded in a disbelieving tone after studying the pitiful contents of their pockets.
"Sure I dol" the youngster answered.
"Lordy lordl Did you-all hear that, Lon?"
"I heard it, but I can't hardly believe it," the Kid replied. "Lord. What a fool mistake."
Annoyance and shock played on Waco's face at his friends'
outspoken condemnation. Even if he had made a bad mistake, he did not expect such an open display of criticism. Malicious grins came to Vic and Tonmiy's faces, while they started to look more confident.
**I thought you'd learned better, boy,*' Dusty stated and Waco writfied at the use of a name normally only applied in private. 'Damn it, that hold-up was pulled by two men, not by a ccwuple of
milk-cow chum-twisters."
*1 told you we hadn't done nothing!" Tommy scoffed, but his lips remained in the tight line they had formed when Dusty used the cowhand's derogatory name for nesters. At his side, Vic stirred restlessly and scowled at the small Texan.
"And he told you right,'* Dusty went on, derision plain in voice and expression. 'Whoever robbed the freight outfit had brains and guts.**
"This pair of two-buckle boys couldn't find their mouths with a fork-load of food 'cept on a bri^t summer afternoon," the Kid went on. 'TIere's us been out hunting fellers slick enough to have pulled that stick-up and you waste time hauling in f ool-hoemen."
Fury flickered on Vic's face at the words. "HeyI—." he began.
*T)amn it, throw them out of here!" Dusty barked. "I haven't time to waste on sod-busters when I'm looking for the men who robbed that place."
'Tfou've found 'emi" Tommy yelled, furious at the scornful dismissal.
"Shut it!" Vic shouted.
"Go on, get them the hell out of here!" Dusty snapped.
"I tell you we did rob the freight outfiti" Tommy insisted, wild with anger at the continued contemptuous rejection.
"Then where's the money?" Dusty barked.
"We hid it outs—."
"You stupid son-of-a-bitchl" Vic howled. "You've fixed our wagon now."
With that he flung himself through the door into the office and returned even faster, propelled by a thrust of Mark Counter's good arm. Knowing his presence would not be needed in the rear of the building, Mark had remained in the front and was in an ideal position to prevent the nester's attempt at escape. Fury showed on Vic's face as he
returned. Screeching curses, he flung himself at his friend, laid hold of Tommy's lapels and slammed him against the wall. The Kid and Waco moved forward fast, catching Vic's arms and hauling him away from the scared Tommy. Even then the raging nester continued to struggle, but could not escape from their hold.
**Toss him in the cells,** Dusty ordered and turned to Tommy. "I reckon you'd best tell me all about it."
Watching Pickle-Barrel spring to and open the door of a cell, then the two deputies thrust Vic inside, gave Tonuny a chance to realise what his incautious words meant. Like most nester youths, Tonuny resented the more affluent cowhands. Seeing them at the end of a drive, relaxed, with plenty of money to spend, he overlooked the way they earned their pay. Forgetting, or not knowing of the long hours worked, risks taken, dangers endured, while bringing the cattle north, he saw only men his own age who appeared to have advantages that never came his way.
It had long been Tonuny's view that, given the same chance, he could lick anything done by a cowhand. So the thought that such an insignificant specimen of the cow-chasing breed regarded him with contempt spurred him to folly. The fact tihat none of the three Texans greatly exceeded him in age, with the tall blond kid even younger, drove all Vic's warning from his mind. So he blurted out that damning admission. Yet, having been granted time to think, he decided to bluff things out.
*T don't know what you mean," he said, swinging to face Dusty.
"Shucks, we've known all along you did it," the small Texan replied breezily. "All you did was tell us what we knew."
"So prove it."
Ever since they fled from the freight outfit's office, Vic had been telling Tommy that nothing could be proved against them. The older youngster's insistence originally filled his friend with confidence. While it had been badly shaken, the feeling returned as Tommy realised one vital piece of evidence was missing.
"That'll be easy enough," Dusty answered calmly. "The deputy who brought you in recognised you straight off— and the two clerks'll know your faces."
If Dusty hoped for a denial on the grounds that Vic and
Tommy were wearing masks, the nester never gave it. Just in time Tommy bit down on the words as they rose to boil out in triumph.
"Maybe he figures the one they shot can't talk, Dusty,** the Kid remarked.
"Sh—Shot?'* Tommy gasped.
"We heard the shooting, that's what got us there so quick,** Dusty told him. "And we*d*ve been after you a whole heap faster happen there hadn't been the shot clerk to tend to."
Standing back against the wall, where he had retired in the face of his two friends* attitude, Waco watched everything. Slowly the opinion formed that he had missed something. Yet he could not be sinre what. So he followed some advice Dusty once gave him on the matter of what to do when unsure of the next move; he did nothing.
"Look, we never shot nobodyl'* Toromy gasped, looking from Dusty to the Kid.
'TThat's what they all say,** Pickle-Barrel commented. "One feller telled us we couldn't prove it 'cause nobody saw the bullet leave the gun."
"He'd a right smart legal point,** drawled the Kid. "What'd you do?"
"Himg him for something we knowed he'd done."
"H—^Hung—I" gulped Tommy, hands going almost automatically to his neck. '*Y—^You can't—."
"Not imless the feller dies," Dusty admitted. **Waco, go ask Mark if any word's come in yet."
"I tell you we never shot oflF oiu* guns!" Tommy yelled. "Sure we robbed the freight office, but we didn't shoot anybody."
"Let's go into the office and hear what you've got to tell,** Dusty said.
Seated before the marshaFs desk, vdth the deputies forming a half-circle aroimd him and Dusty on the other side holding pen to paper, Tommy hesitantly told his story. Coming to town, short of money as usual, the two young nesters had grown discontented at the sight of numerous pleasures beyond their slender purse. Everybody else seemed to have plenty to spend and they felt the deficit badly. A foolish attempt to increase their finances at a faro table ended in disaster and wiped out the little cash they owned.
One of the rules Freddie had brought in when she opened
her place was *broke-money'. Anybody who reached the blanket either drinking or trying to Uck the house's percentage on the gambling games, could apply to one of the barmaids and receive five dollars. While collecting their Tjroke-money', the nesters had overheard the freight outfit's swamper cursing the clerks for sending him to fetch a bucket of beer while they worked on the accoimts.
Urging Tommy to leave, Vic put up the proposal that th^ should rob the clerks. Although Tommy had raised several objections, Vic produced answers for them all. Wearing the mackinaw and wolf-sldn coat to hide their suits, and masked by their bandanas, they could not be recognised. Nor would Schubert and Wallenheim argue in the face of the shotgun. Robbing them would be too easy.
Raised to the point of bravado by the beer he had dnmk before losing the rest of his money at faro, and smarting under the failure to attract a saloongirl. Tommy went along with the scheme. Neither expected such a windfall as came their way via the open safe, their first idea being merely to take the clerks' wallets; although Vic decided to take the watches and give the affair a professional flavour. Finding the safe open, they had made the most of the chance.
Although they had never heard of Tricky Dick Cansole's methods—Dusty kept the story of the stashed loot known only to his deputies—the nesters had hit on the same idea. Taking only enough money for a visit to Lily Gouch's house, they hid the rest outside town.
"ril show you where," Tommy promised, looking and soimding close to tears as imderstanding of his position grew stronger on him.
"Go with him, Waco, Lon,'' Dusty ordered.
A somewhat indignant Waco accompanied the Kid to collect their horses. For a time he expected the Kid to make some comment, but none came. Unable to hold down his feelings any longer, the youngster let out an explosive snort.
"Damn it all, Lonl" he said hotly. "I sure never expected Dusty to roust me out like that. Especially when it comes out that Tm right."
Instead of giving any condolences, the Kid broke into a deep, hearty chuckle and slapped his companion on the back.
"Don t that beat all," the Kid finally got out.
"What's so funny, 'cepting you near on bust my
backbone?" Waco howled indignantly.
**For somebody who's acted real smart up 'til now, you re sure showing poor sense/* the Kid replied.
"Ruhr
"You handled everything just right, boy. All the way.**
Realisation struck the yoimgster, slamming him to a halt. Catching hold of the Kid's arm, Waco swung him aroimd and thrust a wrathful face up close to the other's Indian-dark, grinning features.
**You mean that you'n' Dusty figured all along I'd got the right feUers?"
"I'd have to say *yes* to that,** the Kid admitted. "See, me 'n' ole Dusty maybe don't have half the gals in town running themselves ragged chasing us, but we can count to ten if we go slow and use all our fingers. We reckoned that hold-up hadn't been pulled by regular outlaws and's soon's things quietened down a mite we started asking questions. Then what do we find?"
'Try telling me."
"We find diat our *good-looking, young one's' already been 'roimd asking the same questions, ordy sooner."
"You couldn't miss guessing who they meant when they said *the good-looking yoimg one*," Waco said in a milder tone.
"Took us a while, but we figured it out," the Kid replied. "Anyways, we got to Lily Couch's place in time to see you coming out stuffed to the craw with turkey and ham and all them other things t^e'd've had if you hadn't been so blasted nosy. Figured that seeing's you'd had the goodies, you might's well do the work and sat back to let you. You handled it good, boy. Real good."
"So why'd you and Dusty start raw-hiding me?" Waco demanded, noting that the word *boy' took on its old connotation; implying that he might be yoimg, but he would grow from a boy into a real good man.
*T)o I need to tell you?"
''Naw. He figured to rile them nesters into speaking up like lil Ceorgie Washingtons. T can't tell a lie, I chopped down that slippery ehn' or something."
The making of a lawman Page 14