Gunmen of the Desert Sands

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Gunmen of the Desert Sands Page 8

by Ralph Cotton


  ’’Let it go, Jed," Dawson said quietly, cutting his deputy off. ’’Shaw did what he thought you wanted done, Messenger. If you want his badge back, I’ll see to it he turns it in if we come across him. I doubt he’s given that deputy badge much thought one way or another."

  ’’Thank goodness it’s only made of simple tin," said Messenger. ’’I’m certain if it had any value he would have traded it for whiskey by now." The two agents chuckled darkly at Messenger’s remark.

  Dawson looked away, out across the wavering heart toward the village, in order to cut short the conversation about Lawrence Shaw. He and Shaw had been friends for too many years for him to listen to strangers belittle the man. ’’Are we ready to ride out there, see what’s left of this place?" He nodded in the direction of Julimez.

  Messenger sighed and slumped in his saddle for a moment, then said, ’’I’m needed in Matamoros. I’ll be turning back right here. But yes, ride on. Your directive is to pursue these men until you have either dispatched them adequately, or they lead you on to Quinn Madsen and the rest of his gang."

  ’’Don’t worry," said Dawson, ’’as soon as we cross paths with them, they will be adequately dispatched." He touched his hat brim toward Messenger and nudged his horse forward. Caldwell swung his horse in beside him.

  ’’Are they going to be too difficult for you two to deal with?" Messenger asked.

  ’’We’ll get along just fine, Samuel," Tunis said, daring to reply on a first-name basis, just to show Carr that he and Messenger went back a long way together. He turned his horse toward Dawson and Caldwell. ’’Carr here might have to whip them into shape, but I think they’ll do well once we instill a little Washington discipline in them."

  ’’Good luck," said Messenger. He backed his horse a step and added before they rode away, ’’If you do run across that drunkard Shaw, feel free to make it perfectly clear that the government neither wants nor needs his help any longer, if you get my meaning."

  Carr looked back at him and nodded with a flat grin. ’’I get your meaning, sir. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to make it very clear to him. I’ve never been too impressed by big-name gunslingers."

  When the four men stopped their horses at a low sandy rise, seven hundred yards from the village, Tunis gave Carr a guarded look. With the trace of a smug grin he said to Dawson, ’’You know, Messenger didn’t really make it clear just which one of us is to be in charge out here."

  Sensing the agent was up to something, Dawson replied, ’’Do you suppose he had a reason for doing that?"

  Tunis said, ’’I’ve known the man a long time. I’ve never seen him do anything without a good reason."

  Dawson went along with the game, saying, ’’Maybe it slipped his mind."

  ’’Slipped his mind?" Both agents chuckled. ’’That’s most unlikely, Marshal," Tunis said. ’’I sort of know the way he thinks. I figure he decided that cream really does rise to the top. He figures whichever one of us proves himself most worthy is going to be the one the rest of just naturally want to follow. Does that make sense to you?"

  Caldwell cut in. ’’This has been Marshal Dawson’s command all along. I see no need in it changing. Had Messenger and you two listened to him when the whole posse had these men in our sights two days ago—"

  ’’Never mind, Deputy," Dawson cut in. ’’Let’s hear what Agent Tunis has to say before we discount him." He looked at Tunis and said, gesturing toward the village lying ahead, ’’Let’s hear how you propose we approach Julimez?"

  Tunis offered a slight grin. ’’Well now, let’s see, Marshal," he said mockingly as if giving it long and serious thought. ’’A big decision like that I want to be sure I get it right." His mocking demeanor changed quickly. In a no-nonsense manner he said, ’’Don’t treat me like I’m a fool, Dawson. There are no raiders left in Julimez, Marshal, no posse men either. Deacon Lucas and his men have done their worst and moved on. The posse will be right behind them. If we didn’t need water for our horses, we could likely bypass this pigsty altogether. We could swing wide of this village and catch up to the posse."

  ’’I see," said Dawson. ’’What about the villagers?" He had more to say, but Tunis didn’t give him the chance.

  ’’We have no time to attend to the villagers, Dawson," he said. ’’They’ll have to fend for themselves. I say we ride straight in, water our horses, get ourselves supplied and keep going. We’ll soon catch up to the raiders again. Next time I’ll do the honors of placing Deacon Lucas’ head on a stick for you." He gave Carr a grin of satisfaction. ’’That’s the way we’ve learned to do business."

  ’’That’s your whole plan, eh?" Dawson asked.

  ’’Yep, you’ve heard it," said Tunis. ’’Have you got any objections to it?" he asked in a confrontational tone.

  Dawson didn’t respond. Instead he swung down from his saddle and said, ’’If it’s all the same with you, I’ll rest here a few minutes and be along shortly."

  ’’It’s all the same with me." Tunis shrugged, feeling as if Dawson had already relinquished command to him. ’’I appreciate a man who knows his limitations." He gave his horse a nudge with his spurs and rode forward.

  Carr gave Dawson a smug look and rode away beside him.

  No sooner had the two ridden a few yards than Caldwell said to Dawson, ’’This is not going to work. I’m not going to take orders from a man like Tunis. He knows nothing about this desert and these people. What did Messenger mean, sending these two out with us? What was his reasoning?"

  ’’These government officials don’t always make decisions based on sound reasoning," Dawson said. ’’Their like whores. They’re only interest is in keeping the person above them happy."

  ’’I understand," said Caldwell. ’’That makes me wonder if these two are any good at what they do, or did they just happen to know somebody who got them appointed to their jobs?"

  ’’I don’t know," said Dawson, ’’but I’d trade them both for just one good seasoned Texas sheriff from anywhere along the border." As he spoke he lifted a canteen that hung from his saddle horn.

  Caldwell nodded, considering it. ’’Was that a good idea letting them ride in to Julimez that way? Things can be tricky down here for a couple of americanos who don’t know their way around."

  Dawson shrugged. ’’We’ll just have to wait and see. You heard Agent Tunis, what they don’t know they’ll learn in a hurry." He uncapped his canteen and swished the tepid water around, determining its low level. Then he led his tired horse over beside a large rock and sat down.

  Caldwell followed him. ’’Yes," he said, ’’I heard him. That’s what has me concerned."

  ’’Like it or not, it looks like we’re stuck with them for a while," said Dawson.

  ’’Yes," said Caldwell, ’’and like it or not, we’ve got to ride into Julimez for fresh water. These horses won’t make it past Julimez to the next water stop." He also took down a canteen of tepid water from his saddle horn, shook it to gauge its contents, then sat down beside Dawson.

  The two sipped water sparingly and sat in silence for a few minutes until the sound of gunfire drew their attention toward Julimez. ’’Sounds like they’ve arrived," Dawson said flatly. He stood up, capped his canteen and hung it back around his saddle horn. He stepped back to his saddlebags, took out a folded white flour sack and shook it out. ’’Let’s go see what they’ve learned so far."

  Chapter 9

  Tunis and Carr had ridden toward Julimez with bold determination. Two hundred yards from the main street running the length of the town, a voice had called out to the two agents from behind a weathered, broken-down mule cart whose wheels lay buried in sand up to their axles. ’’Throw down your weapons and step down from your horses," the voice said in stiff English.

  ’’Like hell," Carr replied. Both men drew their Colts. Carr fired a shot at the mule cart. His bullet sent a chunk of sun-bleached wood flying into the air. It also drew a heavy volley of gunfire, both pistol an
d repeating rifles, from behind the cover of cactus and low sunken rocks along a dry wash twenty yards to their left.

  ’’Damn it, Carr!" Tunis shouted.

  The pair spurred their horses and made a dash for town. But before they made it another hundred yards to the streets of Julimez, a second line of gunfire erupted toward them. This time they had to drop from their saddles and crawl quickly to a bald sunken rock, where they lay listening to bullets whistle past, inches from their heads.

  ’’We were wrong, the raiders are still here!" Carr said in a frightened voice.

  ’’No, you fool!" Tunis said sharply. ’’That’s not Deacon Lucas and his men! If it was we’d be dead." He’d managed to snatch his rifle from his saddle boot before his horse bolted away.

  ’’Then who the hell is it?" Carr asked. ’’It’s sure as hell not the posse!"

  ’’It’s villagers—the town folks," said Tunis. He levered a round into his rifle chamber while he spoke. ’’This is why Dawson didn’t ride in with us. He saw this coming. The son of a bitch let us ride right into it."

  ’’Where the hell did these people get this kind of weaponry?" Carr asked without first thinking about it.

  ’’Take one guess," said Tunis.

  ’’Oh," said Carr, realizing the villagers had taken the weapons left by the dead. ’’But why are they shooting at us?" he asked. ’’What’s got them so worked up?"

  ’’Call it a hunch," said Tunis above the melee, ’’but after all that shooting last night, I expect they’ve had a bellyful of both the raiders and the posse chasing them."

  ’’But it wasn’t us," Carr insisted. ’’We haven’t done anything to them."

  ’’Keep that thought," said Tunis. ’’Maybe you’ll be able to explain it to them." He rose only inches, just enough to get a quick glance at the terrain and fire a shot before dropping back down behind the rock as shots zipped past his face. Upon having seen the armed townsmen moving forward crouched low to the sand, he said, ’’On second thought, I don’t think they’re going to listen to anything we’ve got to say."

  While the two lay pinned down by the advancing line of townsmen, Dawson and Caldwell slowly rode toward the first line of defense, who had turned and begun to close in on Tunis and Carr from behind. With the white flour sack tied to his rifle barrel, Dawson raised the Winchester and fired a shot in the air.

  ’’Look at this, Mika," said one of the townsmen to a village elder as the armed townsmen turned around and stared toward the two riders seated beneath a white flag. ’’More of these gringo bastardos." He spat and started to raise a battered flintlock rifle to his shoulder.

  ’’No, Fredo!" said Mika Endora, the village elder. ’’We must honor a white flag. We are not animals." He raised his voice loud enough for the others around them to hear.

  ’’We are not animals, but they are," said the younger townsman. ’’You saw how they shot up our town, how they killed two innocent people."

  ’’Yes, I saw what they did," said Mika. ’’But that was those men and the men chasing them. These two come in a show of peace. We will hear what they say. If they are like the others we will see to it they get what is coming to them." He looked toward the second line of townsmen, who were still firing on Carr and Tunis. With the wave of his arm back and forth slowly, the firing lulled, then stopped altogether.

  Seeing the elderly Mexican bring the firing to a halt, Dawson said sidelong to Caldwell, ’’Well, that’s a pretty good sign." He nudged his horse forward at a slow walk. ’’Let’s see how fast these two government gentlemen have learned not to rush into a town that’s just been shot up all night by their fellow countrymen."

  From their cover behind the low rock, Tunis and Carr quickly took note of the cease-fire. Tunis ventured a look back to where he spotted Dawson and Caldwell speaking to the elderly villager. ’’I’ll be damned, it’s Dawson and his deputy," he said, causing Carr to venture up beside him. ’’The marshal’s waving a white flag."

  Carr spat and said with sarcasm, ’’It looks like our U.S. marshal has surrendered us over to these peasant heathens. This is a fine image for us to be putting forward. What if word of this reaches the Mexican government? What if it reached people we know in Washington?"

  ’’I don’t give a damn about our image at the moment," Tunis said gruffly. ’’All I want right now is to get out from under these guns and get back on the trail."

  But a full half hour passed before the elderly Mexican waved his arm to give his permission for Dawson and Caldwell to ride forward. Upon Mika’s signal the Mexican townsmen eased back and allowed the two government agents to stand and meet Dawson and Caldwell as the two drew closer. On their way, Dawson took the reins to the agents’ horses from a Mexican who had gathered the spooked animals. Arriving at the rock where Tunis and Carr stood brushing themselves off, Dawson handed them the reins. Without commenting on the incident that had just happened, Dawson said, ’’The posse and Luca’s men shot it out last night, just like we suspected." His face took on a grim expression as he paused, then said, ’’The posse got wiped out."

  ’’Wiped out?" said Tunis in disbelief. ’’What do you mean wiped out? You mean they got the worst of the figh—"

  ’’I mean wiped out," Dawson said, cutting him off. ’’They’re all dead." He gazed off into the distance. ’’They say one might have gotten away."

  ’’Holy Joseph, only one man is still alive out of the whole posse?" Carr asked with a grimace.

  ’’The wounded posse men that were left, the raiders killed in cold blood," Dawson said. He nodded at the horses. ’’Get mounted. It sounds like we’ve got ourselves a lot of burying to do."

  Stepping into his saddle, Tunis looked all around as the elderly Mexican and the rest of the townsmen began gathering around them and heading for the streets of Julimez. ’’How the hell did you find all this out in this short time?" he asked Dawson under his breath. ’’How’d you keep them from shooting you both?"

  Dawson didn’t answer. Caldwell stepped his horse in close and said quietly, ’’It’s all in how you treat people."

  Carr gave the deputy a scorching look.

  ’’Easy, Grady," Tunis warned Carr. ’’I’ve seen enough to know that we’re walking on strange ground here. Let’s both tread easy and get this job done."

  Carr looked at him. ’’You sound like you’re letting Dawson have charge."

  ’’That’s exactly what I am doing," Tunis said in a firm and serious tone. ’’We’re not in Washington now." He nudged his horse forward and rode a few feet behind Dawson until they stopped on the main street and looked at the dead posse men lying in a row in front of the cantina.

  Stepping down from his saddle, Dawson gestured back toward the elderly Mexican who led the townsmen onto the street behind them. ’’He said the gang split up when the posse got here. Deacon Lucas and some of his men rode away and left three of their pards to fend for themselves."

  ’’Left his men to die," Tunis contemplated. ’’What kind of new wrinkle is that going to put on things?"

  ’’Hard to say," said Dawson. ’’With them split up, it’s going to be tougher on us chasing them down."

  Tunis added, ’’But we’ll have less guns aimed at us when we do."

  ’’That’s right," said Dawson, agreeing with him, noting how Tunis had seemed to settle down, as if he’d learned something important riding into the gun sights outside Julimez. ’’The next good water is going to be in Arajo, thirty miles across the flats. We need to press them just enough to keep them moving, but not so much that it keeps them on a killing spree."

  ’’I say we go straight after Lucas, Charlie Bone and Blackie Waite. Forget the three they left behind until after we’ve finished with Deacon Lucas. He’s the main snake we want."

  ’’No," said Dawson. ’’For all we know this could all be a trap. We go after Lucas, these other three fall in behind us, pretty soon we’re pinned down between them."

  ’’Are you
in agreement with him on this, Ripley?" Carr asked Tunis in a begrudging tone.

  ’’That’s right, I am," Tunis replied without a moment’s hesitation. ’’I’m more interested in getting this job done than I am in who’s in charge."

  Before Carr could comment any further on the matter, Dawson said, ’’According to the old Mexican’s description, these three sound like Wild Dick Bernie, Sonny Engles and Morgan Hatch. If that’s so, we’ve got our hands full." He paused for a moment, then said, ’’Wild Dick is wounded. They have a woman with them, a young prostitute that Sonny Engles had held hostage. She cleaned and dressed all their wounds before they rode out with her."

  ’’A hostage, eh?" said Tunis, considering it.

  ’’I don’t know for certain she’s a hostage," said Dawson. ’’But unless something tells us otherwise, that’s the way we’ll have to play it."

  Carr looked to Tunis for a response, having noted the way Tunis seemed more agreeable with Dawson.

  ’’Yes, I understand," said Tunis. ’’Maybe she’s a hostage, maybe she’s a willing participant. We can’t be sure." He looked around at the dead on the ground, grim reminders of what it cost to come up wrong or lacking against men like Deacon Lucas and the border raiders. ’’I suppose the sooner we get these posse men in the ground, the sooner we’ll find out."

  Twelve miles out of Julimez, two young German mine engineers had carried the body of their Mexican guide to a shallow grave they’d dug for him. They had been so attentive in their digging in the heat of the day that they hadn’t noticed a high cloud of dust rising behind three riders approaching them from across the sand flats. When they finally did look up and see the horsemen riding in closer, one of them instinctively started to walk toward the wagon where he had leaned a long, ornately engraved rifle.

  But as he neared the supply wagon a shot screamed in from one of the riders and thumped into the wagon’s side rail, sending up a spray of dust and splinters. The young German stopped and stared out until the riders reined down only a few feet from him. Seeing the worried questioning look on the young German’s face, Deacon Lucas Leeman gave a flat grin and said, ’’That would not be a neighborly thing to do, raising a gun on three unsuspecting pilgrims."

 

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