The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  “I expect so,” Cade agreed.

  “Well, now, just look who the cat drug in,” a man said as he came out of the mercantile. “Cade McCall. How many cows have you lost for old man Dennis?”

  “Not as many as you did, Kilgore,” Cade said.

  “Well you ain’t got ‘em to Abilene yet,” Kilgore said. “You never can tell what might happen between here and there.”

  “You wouldn’t be makin’ a threat now, would you?”

  “No, no threat. I’m just makin’ conversation, is all.”

  “Marshal, I hope you’re keeping an eye on these too,” Cade said. He nodded toward Toombs. “I don’t know this man, but I have to say that I don’t think much of who he’s chosen as a friend.”

  “They’ve been here for a few weeks, and except for a hand or two of poker that caused some sparks to fly, they haven’t been any trouble.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re keeping your nose clean,” Cade said. He turned back to Marshal Walker. “We’d like to stay here, but we’ve got to get back to the herd. My two cooks need to get supper ready before we head out tomorrow or my whole crew’s going to mutiny.”

  “Cooks? These two women are your cooks?” Kilgore asked. “I thought you trailed with Ike Weldon.”

  Cade studied Kilgore for a while before he answered.

  “Weldon’s dead, and you knew that before we left Texas, or did you forget?”

  “I guess I did,” Kilgore said as he tipped his hat. “Ladies, have a nice drive to Abilene.”

  “There’s something about those two,” Arabella said as they walked away. “They were in the store when we were, and they kept watching us.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t mean to be forward,” the marshal said, “but any man would look at the two of you.”

  When the chuck wagon got back to the herd that night, Arabella and Maggie put together a delicious supper. They had fresh vegetables, eggs and ham, a meal everyone enjoyed, but the special treat was a fresh berry cobbler.

  Breakfast the next morning was equally satisfying, and just before Arabella and Maggie left, Cade stepped up to talk to them.

  “After we get the chuck wagon across the river, I want you to get well on out in front of us. I’m going to stay with the herd to make sure we don’t have a repeat of what happened in Fort Worth when we’re passing through Wichita.”

  “What about choosing a place to stop?” Arabella asked.

  “You just keep moving north, and as soon as we clear Wichita, I’ll catch up with you.”

  Cade turned to leave.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say it?” Arabella asked.

  “Say what?” Cade replied, with fake ignorance.

  “Cade McCall,” Arabella complained.

  Cade laughed. “I love you,” he said.

  “Well, now, would you lookie there,” Toombs said. “Just like you said would happen. There’s the chuck wagon all by its lonesome.”

  “You think I couldn’t figure out what McCall would do bringin’ his herd through town? Those fools down south might think they hired a jimdandy, but you just wait. They’ll lose more cows with him than they ever did with me.”

  “Then why ain’t we takin’ the cows instead of goin’ after the women?”

  Kilgore shook his head. “I don’t know why I put up with you. You heard McCall tell the marshal this here’s his wife. You don’t think he won’t pay to get her back?”

  “Oooooh!” Toombs rubbed his crotch. “But he don’t have to get her too quick does he?”

  The two riders overtook the chuck wagon and then passed it, one rider to either side. They rode no more than a few yards in front of the wagon, then they stopped and turned to face Arabella and Maggie. Arabella was driving, and she had to bring the mules to a halt.

  “Hello, ladies,” one of the two men said with a smile. Both Arabella and Maggie had seen such a smile before, and they knew it wasn’t friendly.

  “Sir, you are in our way,” Maggie said.

  “Yeah, we are, ain’t we?”

  “What do you want, Mr. Kilgore?” Arabella asked.

  “I’m lookin’ at what I want, Mrs. McCall.”

  Suddenly Arabella snapped the reins over the backs of the four-mule team, and, as if fired from a cannon, the team broke into an immediate gallop. Kilgore and Toombs had to jerk their horses around to get out of the way.

  “What the hell?” Kilgore shouted as the wagon rumbled by them, with Arabella slapping the reins and shouting to encourage the team to run faster. The chuck wagon bounced and careened over the ground, with the pots and pans clanging as they moved back and forth.

  For just a moment Kilgore and Toombs were glued to their saddles, startled by what they saw. Then Kilgore let out a shout.

  “Well, don’t just sit there! Get after them!”

  The two men urged their horses into a gallop, and quickly overtook the wagon. Kilgore pulled his pistol.

  “Stop!” he shouted. “Stop that wagon!”

  Arabella paid no attention to him.

  “Stop, damn you, or I’ll shoot you dead!” Kilgore shouted, and even though he aimed the pistol at Arabella, she showed no intention of stopping.

  Then, Kilgore got an idea, and instead of shooting Arabella, he raced up beside the lead mule on the near side, held the gun but inches from the animal’s head, and pulled the trigger.

  The mule went down in its traces, and that pulled the other mules down as well. With screams from Arabella and Maggie, the wagon turned over, then came apart, spilling utensils and foodstuffs. It lay there on its side, surrounded by a cloud of dust. The two wheels on the upper side were still turning.

  The mules were braying in pain and fear. The two women were lying quietly, on the ground.

  “Are they dead?” Toombs asked as he and Kilgore dismounted for a closer look.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Toombs pulled his pistol and stepped up to the mules, who were still braying in pain.

  “What are you fixin’ to do?” Kilgore asked.

  “All of the mules, except for the one you kilt, has got broken legs,” Toombs said. “I’m fixin’ to shoot ‘em.”

  “No, someone from the herd might hear the shootin’. Let’s get these women picked up ‘n get out of here.”

  21

  With the herd across the river and safely through town, Cade rode over to Jeter.

  “I’m going up to check on the chuck wagon,” he said. “You can keep the herd moving.”

  “Ha! You’re not foolin’ me, Cade McCall. You’re goin’ to see if they got any sinkers left.”

  “You think so?” Cade replied with a smile.

  “If they do, bring one back for me.”

  “All right,” Cade promised as he rode away, urging his horse into a quick, ground eating lope. He had come about three miles when he saw the wagon.

  “Oh, my God! No!” he said. It was more of a prayer than an oath, for he could see that both the chuck wagon and the hoodlum wagon were lying on their sides.

  Slapping his legs against the sides of his animal, he pushed the horse into a gallop, covering the last quarter mile in just over half a minute. As he approached, he could hear the mules bellowing in pain.

  “Arabella! Arabella, what happened?” he shouted as he swung down from the saddle and made a quick perusal of the scattered cooking utensils.

  “Arabella?” he shouted, but the only response he received was the braying of the mules.

  Cade pulled his pistol and stepped over to the mules. He hesitated but a moment, then shot the mules that were still alive. Seeing that one of the mules was already down, he formulated a hypothesis as to how the wagon was wrecked. The lead near mule must have stepped into a hole and gone down, that would have caused the others to go down, and that would have upset the wagon.

  “Damn, Arabella, did you have them at a gallop? That’s about the only way I could see one mule bringing down the others. Normally it would just be a quick, but easy stop of
the wagon, and there’d be no danger.” He spoke the words aloud, even though there was no one to hear him.

  Then Cade took a closer look at the lead mule, and he saw what he had missed before. The lead mule had a bullet hole in its head, and it wasn’t put there by Cade’s pistol.

  “What the hell happened here?” he asked, though even as he mouthed the words, he was getting a sicker, and sicker feeling. His curiosity changed, quickly, to fear.

  Cade looked into both wagons, hoping to see them there, but he saw nothing. He got down on his hands and knees to make a closer examination of the two wagons, not only searching inside, but beneath them as well.

  “Arabella!” he called again, this time in a loud enough voice to hear the ghostly return of the echo from a not too distant bluff.

  “Arabella . . . Arabella . . . Arabella.”

  Now, on the verge of panic, he leaped into the saddle and made a large circle around the dead mules and wrecked wagons. He found nothing, but he didn’t think that he would find anything because he was certain that the women, if they were still alive, would have started back toward Timmy and the horses.

  On the other hand, there were no bodies, which meant, certainly, that they were still alive.

  If so, where the hell were they?

  Cade returned to the herd at a full gallop, and Jeter, seeing him come back in such a way, rode out to meet him.

  “Cade, what is it? What’s happened?”

  “They’re gone, Jeter! They’re gone!”

  “Who’s gone? What are you talking about?”

  “Arabella and Maggie! They’re gone. The chuck wagon’s been wrecked.”

  “And you didn’t find them? Maybe they’re just walking back to the herd.”

  “No, somebody took them. Jeter, it wasn’t an accident. One of the mules was shot, that’s what wrecked the wagon.”

  “Ian!” Jeter called. “You and Boo stay with the herd. Art, round up the others. We’ve got some searching to do.”

  “Mr. McCall, you’ll need a fresh horse,” Ponder suggested as he brought up one of the best horses.

  “Thanks, Timmy.”

  Freshly mounted, Cade led the others back to the site of the overturned wagon. As Cade had done before, they looked inside, and under the wagon.

  “Cade,” Jeter said. “Look.”

  Jeter pointed to blood on the canvas. “Looks like somebody was hurt.”

  Cade examined the blood. “Thank God, it doesn’t look like there’s a lot of blood.”

  Elgin:

  Tennie, we need help,” Toombs said.

  “What is it, Billy? What’s wrong?”

  “Kilgore and I found a couple of women. They’ve been hurt, and we need someplace to keep them.”

  “Why did you bring them here? Why not take them to Doc Dunaway on the other side of the river?”

  “We can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Just believe me, we can’t do that,” Toombs said. “You’re going to have to help me look after ‘em.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “Kilgore’s got ‘em out back.”

  “All right,” Tennie said, letting out a long sigh. “We’ve got an empty room upstairs.”

  When Toombs went back outside he saw Kilgore with the two women. Arabella was conscious but Maggie wasn’t. Maggie had a purple bruise on her forehead, and Arabella had dried blood on her forearm.

  “Tennie has a place for them,” Toombs said.

  “Mrs. McCall can walk. Help me carry this one.”

  “What if she tries to escape?” Toombs asked.

  Kilgore smiled, an evil grin. “If she even tries it,” he nodded toward Arabella, “we’ll kill this one.”

  “What is this place?” Arabella asked. “Is it a doctor’s office? Magnolia needs a doctor.”

  “It’s a whore house,” Kilgore said, almost dismissively. “Grab her feet, Toombs, I’ll get her shoulders.” He turned to Arabella.

  “You follow us, and if you try anything, or even if you tell one of the women in here what happened, we’ll kill your friend.”

  Arabella followed them in through the back door, then up the stairs.

  It was late afternoon by the time Cade and the others returned to the herd, empty handed.

  “You didn’t find them?” Boo asked.

  “No,” Jeter said. “Somebody took them.”

  “Took ‘em? Any sign who done it?”

  “If there was any sign, we sure rode over it while we were searching for ‘em,” Finley said.

  “One o’ the lads said ye found blood,” Ian said.

  “Yes, we did.”

  “Maybe some good Samaritans found ‘em, and took ‘em back to Wichita to the doctor,” Boo suggested.

  “I’d like to believe that,” Cade replied as he switched his saddle to a fresh horse. “But one of the mules was shot. Whoever took them had nothing good in mind. I’m going into town.”

  “I’m going with you,” Jeter said.

  “Go ahead, we’ll look after the herd,” Boo offered.

  Wichita.

  It could have been Indians,” Marshal Walker suggested. “Yesterday the Abernathys had three horses stolen, and their milk cow killed by Indians.”

  “Did they take anyone?” Cade asked.

  “No, not this time. But a couple of years ago, a horde of savages came up here ‘n raised hell. They raped ‘n murdered fourteen women, burned a bunch of houses, destroyed eleven stage coaches, and then killed the drivers and passengers.”

  “You said, ‘not this time’ when I asked about what happened yesterday. What about the time you’re talking about now? Did they take anyone?”

  “They sure as hell did. They took four women and twenty-four children with ‘em.”

  “I almost hate to ask this, but what happened to the women and children they took that time?”

  “It was the middle of the winter, and two of the women and every one of the children wound up froze to death.”

  “Two of the women died? You said there were four.”

  “Yeah, well, about the only good thing that happened was Custer ‘n his soldiers rescued two of the women at the Battle of Washita.”

  “But the women who didn’t freeze to death, were rescued,” Cade said, as if reassuring himself.

  “They were. We haven’t heard anything about them takin’ any women lately, but could be they took your wife and her friend. I was getting up a posse to go after the Indians that hit the Abernathy farm.”

  “Can you do that? I mean, as a city marshal, can you lead a posse out of town?”

  “I’m not just a city marshal, Mr. McCall, I’m also the county sheriff. And the hot pursuit law allows me to cross the lines of my jurisdiction. If the Indians are out there, and if they have your wife and the other young lady, we can go after them.”

  “Then I’m going with you,” Cade said.

  “I am too,” Jeter added.

  “Jeter, there’s no sense in both of us going. I think you should stay here, with the herd.”

  “For how long?”

  “How long will you keep the posse out, Marshal?” Cade asked.

  “No more than a week,” Marshal Walker replied. “If we haven’t found anything by then, we aren’t likely to.”

  “If I’m not back within a week, take the herd on to Abilene,” Cade said.

  “All right. I’d like to go with you, but you’re right, one of us needs to stay with the herd.”

  It took Marshal Walker no longer than an hour to raise a posse. Ten men, armed with weapons that ranged from a muzzle loading Springfield rifle, of the type carried by the soldiers of the Civil War, to breech loading carbines, to lever action repeating rifles, such as the Winchester, and Henry rifles. There was one double-barrel shotgun in the group.

  Amon Kilgore, who had volunteered for the posse, was carrying a Sharps fifty-caliber buffalo gun.

  “Damn, Kilgore, plannin’ on takin’ down a buff or two, are y
ou?” Neil Lewis asked. Lewis, who owned the leather goods store, was armed with a Henry Repeating rifle.

  “Not particularly,” Kilgore replied. “But this baby,” he tapped the rifle, “will bring down an injun from a quarter of a mile away.”

  “Amon, I thank you for going out with the posse,” Cade said.

  “I know we’ve had a few words pass between us in the past,” Kilgore said. “But we’re both from down on the coast, ‘n that makes us neighbors. Seems to me like us neighbors should stick together.”

  They had been out for three days, and though they had found fresh sign, they hadn’t encountered any Indians. They had just finished watering their horses when about ten Comanche came out of a thicket of trees toward them. The Comanche were coming at a full gallop, and they were whooping and screaming at the top of their voice. They were also firing at the posse, though because they were on the back of galloping horses, the shooting was inaccurate.

  After their opening volley, the Indians turned around and retreated toward the thicket of trees from which they had come.

  “After them, men!” Sheriff Walker shouted, but the words were barely out of his mouth before more than two dozen warriors reappeared to confront the posse. The Indians had drawn them into an ambush.

  “This way!” Walker shouted, and he led the posse down into a shallow ravine, which got them out of the line of fire. They followed the ravine for a hundred yards or so, then when they rode back up to the top of the ridge that ran parallel with the ravine, found that they had flanked the Indians.

  “Fire!” Walker shouted, and the posse fired as one, so that it sounded like one, sustained roar.

  At least four Indians went down, and a couple more were hit. But the Indians, thinking that the posse would have to reload before firing again, turned toward them and charged, again filling the air with their war whoops.

  “Those of you who don’t have repeating rifles, engage with pistols!” Sheriff Walker shouted. “Engage at my command!”

  Cade and the others who had repeating rifles jacked a round into the chamber, as the others drew their pistols. They waited until the Indians, many of whom were now brandishing war clubs, came to within pistol range.