The Western Adventures of Cade McCall Box Set

by Robert Vaughan

  “Come back here, you bastards!” The man who had called out was yelling at a couple of riders going up the hill, though from this side of the river, Cade couldn’t see them well enough to identify them.

  “Digger! Get down you fool!” a voice called from behind the bushes.

  The one called Digger turned and began firing his rifle toward Cade and the others. Though he was exposed, he was also dangerous, because he was coming very close, one of the bullets kicking sand into Cade’s face.

  Several of Cade’s men fired, and Digger went down.

  Over the next few minutes, the volume of fire dropped off sharply then all firing stopped on both sides of the river.

  “How many of you are left?” Cade called across to them.

  There was no answer, but a single shot was fired.

  “You know what I think?” Cade called. “I think there’re no more than two of you. You have two, and we have six. If you’re after my cargo, you know damn well there’s no way you’re going to get it.”

  Another shot was fired.

  “Come out where we can see you,” Cade said. “Drop your guns and throw your hands up, and we’ll let you live.”

  For a long moment there was no response.

  “If that’s the way you want it, just know you’re going to die right here, today,” Cade warned.

  “All right, all right, we’re comin’ out.”

  A couple of rifles were tossed from the bushes, then two men appeared with their hands raised.

  “Well, will you look at that,” Cade said. “The mop boy.”

  “I guess we know how they found out about the rifles,” Jeter said.

  “That other feller goes by the name of Fargo,” Cahill said. “He used to come into the Dodge House, from time to time.”

  “Cade?” Jacob said in a quiet voice. Jacob was squatted down beside Pullen. “Pullen’s dead.”

  “Damn,” Cade said. “Go over and get those two murdering bastards and if either one of them moves a muscle, shoot his ass.”

  When Cahill and Foster brought the two across the river, Cade went down to the river to meet them.

  “I should put a bullet in you right now, but I’ll let the US Army take care of you. At the very least you’re going to be facing a murder charge.”

  “We’re not the only ones,” Fargo said.

  “Oh, who else?”

  “Luke ‘n Weasel Slater. Them two cowardly bastards is the ones that planned this, then they run away, leavin’ me ‘n Fargo ‘n Digger behind, only, you done kilt Digger. And I ain’t goin’ to face no murder charge with what they don’t neither,” Lemon said.

  “Wait, there’re riders comin’,” Cahill said training his rifle across the river.

  “Maybe it’s the Slaters coming back,” Jeter said.

  “Looks like a whole bunch of ‘em. It’s soldiers,” Cahill said.

  “One of the army patrols out of Camp Supply,” Jacob said.

  Lieutenant Feller was in charge of the detail of twenty men, and when he saw the wagons stopped, he hurried forward crossing the river.

  “Any trouble here?”

  “We were attacked,” Cade said. He nodded toward Fargo and Lemon.

  “These two?”

  “There were more. You’ll find the bodies back there,” Jacob said pointing to the other side of the river. “And from what this one said, two got away.”

  “I was told I would be meeting a shipment from Fort Dodge,” Lieutenant Feller said. “Did you see anything on the road?

  “Yes, sir, we would be the shipment you are expecting.” Cade took in the three wagons with a wave.

  “Uh.” the Lieutenant had a perplexed look on his face. “I don’t think so. What I was expecting was very valuable cargo. I’m sure the colonel would have provided a fairly large detail to accompany it.”

  “Follow me, Lieutenant,” Cade said. He walked back to the first wagon and raised the canvas. “Is this what you’re expecting?”

  The lieutenant’s mouth dropped open. “You five men brought this all by yourself?”

  “No, there were six of us, but we’ll be burying one,” Jacob said

  “I’m sorry,” the lieutenant said. “My orders are to escort this shipment onto Camp Supply. I’m sure you know that going through the Territory, this cargo cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

  “We can appreciate that. We’d also like you to take these men into custody.”

  “I don’t have any authority to do that. They’re civilians.”

  “All right, I’ll kill them,” Cade said, and raising his pistol he pulled back the hammer.”

  “No, wait! Lieutenant, I’m Private Lemon. I’m in the army. I deserted!”

  “Yeah, me too! I’m Corporal Fargo!”

  “Too late,” Cade said. “You heard the lieutenant. He doesn’t want you.”

  “Hold it,” Lieutenant Feller said. “I suppose, I mean seeing as how they both say they’re army deserters, I would have the authority to take charge of them.”

  Cade eased the hammer back down, then returned the pistol to his holster.

  “I thought you might. Since we’ve got an army escort for the rest of the way, I’d like to leave now, so I can get Pullen back to town.”

  “That’s not the only reason you want to leave. You’re going after the Slaters, aren’t you?” Jeter asked.

  “I am. You comin’ with me?”

  Jeter smiled. “You’re damn right, I am.”

  28

  Bat Masterson was just coming out of the Alhambra when he saw Cade and Jeter riding back into town. They were leading a third horse, over which was draped a body. Knowing they would be headed for the mortuary, he hurried down to meet them.

  Lola was standing at the front of the saloon, looking out over the top of the batwing doors when she saw Cade and Jeter riding into town, leading a horse with a body.

  “They’re bringing in a dead man,” she said.

  “Who?” Rosalie asked.

  “I don’t know but that’s Mr. McCall and Mr. Willis bringin’ him in.”

  “I wonder what happened?” Rosalie asked, stepping over to look outside.

  “You two, quit gawking and get to work,” Luke said.

  “Too bad he didn’t stay away like the others did,” Rosalie said under her breath as she moved away from the door.

  Of those who left a few days earlier, only Luke and Weasel had returned, and without any word as to what had happened to the others.

  Lola didn’t know what the trip was about, or why the others didn’t come back, but when Luke and Weasel returned, she knew that Mack was most upset about it. The three brothers had a discussion and to say that the discussion was spirited would have been an understatement, since there were frequent, and very loud invectives hurled between them.

  Lola had not been able to gather from the shouts and cursing, what it was about, but she believed it had something to do with a missed opportunity of some sort.

  When someone came into town, belly down on the saddle, it got everyone’s attention, and word spread down the street faster than the leisurely advance of the horses. As a result, Eb Collar was standing out in front of his establishment when Cade and Jeter rode up.

  “Who you got here?” Collar asked.

  “Abraham Pullen. He’s one of our drivers,” Cade said.

  “Has he family?”

  “He has a brother back in Missouri. I’d like you to prepare the body so it can be shipped back. I’ll get you the address from our office records.”

  “All right,” Collar said.

  “Cade, what happened?” Bat asked.

  “We were delivering guns,” Cade answered. “We were attacked just before we crossed the Cimarron.”

  “What fool sends guns through the Indian Territory, or I should say what fools take on cargo like that?”

  “To answer your question, the second fools would be us and the first fools would be the US Army,” Cade said.

  “You got
to be kidding,” Bat said. “That’s suicide. Did you get the guns through?”

  “I guess so. Jacob and the boys took them on to Camp Supply, but they had an army escort, so if they lost them, it’s the blue boys that did it.”

  “Getting back to the attack. Did they catch the perpetrators?”

  “We had a pretty good little battle and we killed most of ‘em,” Jeter said. “The two that were left turned out to be deserters, so the lieutenant . . . after some powerful persuasion from Cade, agreed to take them.

  But the ringleaders got away.”

  “Damn, that’s always the way it is. It’s the little guys who take the brunt,” Bat said.

  “We know who they are,” Jeter said. “We saw two men riding away while the battle was going on, and if I’d have known who they were, I would have risked everything to kill the sons of bitches with my own hands.”

  “Well, who was it?”

  “Our old nemeses, the Slaters. It’s no telling where those bastards are now,” Cade said.

  Bat smiled. “I know where they are.”

  “Oh?” Jeter replied.

  “I saw them no more than an hour ago,” Bat said. “All three of them, but I don’t know where their henchman is, though.”

  “Dunn’s dead,” Cade said flatly, as he pulled his pistol and rotated the cylinder making certain every chamber was full. “I hope he’s feeding the buzzards by now.”

  “Hot damn! You’re going after the Slaters, aren’t you?” Bat said.

  Cade just looked at him and started moving toward the Devil’s Den.

  “I’m going with you,” Bat said as he hurried to catch up with Cade.

  “Three against three, that should even the odds a bit,” Jeter said as he checked the loads in his own pistol.

  “It’ll be more than three, Jeter. All the vigilantes weren’t at the Cimarron.”

  “We’ll just find out when we get there,” Jeter said.

  “Jeter, I wish you wouldn’t do this. You’ve got Maggie and the two girls to look after.”

  “Maggie and one girl,” Jeter replied with a smile. “The other one’s yours.”

  Cade nodded. “Yes, she is. All right, gentlemen.” Cade took a deep breath. “Let’s call on the Slaters.”

  Lola was sitting at her table when she saw three men step through the front door, then move to the side and begin perusing the room. She recognized them as Cade McCall, Bat Masterson and Jeter Willis. Cade and Bat had been in the Devil’s Den before, but she had never ever seen Jeter in the saloon.

  Everyone knew the story behind Jeter and the Red House Saloon, so Lola could well understand why he had never been in before. What she didn’t know was why he was here now.

  Why were any of them here? From the expressions on their faces, she was positive they weren’t here for a convivial drink, or a game of poker. Nor did she think any of them would be paying a social call on one of the girls.

  Lola glanced toward the bar, where she saw Luke and Weasel. A few minutes ago, Mack had gone upstairs. She had never seen expressions on the Slaters’ faces like the ones they wore now. They were expressions of absolute terror.

  “Well, now, look what we have here, boys. It looks like Cade McCall ‘n a couple of his friends have come to join us,” Luke said with a forced bravado.

  There were four of the vigilantes still in town, and at the moment, all four were in the saloon. It didn’t require any particular math to see that if there was to be a confrontation, the Slaters held a two to one advantage.

  Any question that there would be no confrontation was quickly dispelled by Cade’s next remark.

  “Did you think you could kill one of our drivers, then head for the hills as if nothing had happened?” Cade asked.

  “What do you mean kill one of your drivers?” Luke asked.

  “You killed Abraham Pullen when you tried to steal the rifles.”

  “You think you can prove that?” Luke’s lips curled into a challenging sneer.

  “Prove it?” Cade replied. “What do you mean prove it? I thought you understood.”

  “You thought I understood what?”

  “This isn’t a court of law; this is a court of justice, and we don’t have to prove a damn thing. All we have to do is know it. We know you killed Abe, and Slater, you’re about to pay for it.”

  All the time Cade was talking, the vigilantes were beginning to move, opening up the distance between themselves and the Slaters, and themselves and each other.

  “I’ve got the two on the left,” Bat said.

  “I’ve got the two on the right,” Jeter added.

  Cade smiled. “Now, isn’t that nice of my friends? They’ve left you two for me.”

  There followed a few seconds of silence, broken only by the tick tock of the wall clock.

  “Kill ‘em!” Luke shouted and his hand started toward his gun. Within the next instant the saloon roared with gunfire. Cade took Luke down first, killing him before he was even able to clear his holster. Because he had turned his attention first to Luke, that had given Weasel an extra beat of time, and he did manage to get his pistol drawn, but when he pulled the trigger the bullet from his gun punched a hole in the floor.

  As Cade concentrated on the two Slater brothers, he was aware of the shooting going on beside him, and he glanced left and right to see if either Jeter or Bat needed help. All four of the vigilantes were going down with killing wounds, but Jeter had been hit.

  “Jeter!”

  “It’s in my upper arm,” Jeter said with a strained voice. He had already slapped his hand over the wound, but the blood was oozing out between his fingers.

  Lola had watched the entire shootout, too stunned by both the immediacy and the ferocity of it to do anything but remain seated at her table. When she saw that Jeter had been hit, she ran over to the bar and grabbed one of the towels then hurried over to the wounded man.

  “Here,” she said, handing the towel to Cade.

  Cade began applying pressure to the wound with the towel. “This’ll hold you ‘til we can find Fringer.”

  As Lola stood there beside the two men, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Mack Slater standing on the upper landing. Mack was pointing a pistol toward Cade.

  “Look out!” Lola shouted, pushing Cade away.

  Just as Lola made her move, Mack fired, and the bullet hit her high in the chest. Both Cade and Bat returned fire and Mack pitched head first over the rail, did a somersault on the way down, and landed on his back.

  Because it was obvious that Mack was dead, Cade and Jeter turned their attention to Lola. It was clear that the wound would be fatal.

  “I’m sorry,” Lola said, talking only with great difficulty.

  “Don’t say anything,” Cade said as he tried to comfort her.

  “I have to. I’m sorry I didn’t tell, earlier. I should have told.”

  “Told what?” Bat asked as he knelt beside Lola.

  “I should have told Mr. Willis.” Lola gasped for breath, then with great difficulty, continued to talk.

  “The I.O.U. wasn’t real,” she said. “It wasn’t for seven thousand two hundred and fifty dollars. It was for two hundred and fifty dollars, but the bet was never even made. The fight began before it could be.”

  “How do you know this?” Cade asked

  “Because I was at the Pig Lot. I saw it all. I’m sorry, I should

  have...” Lola coughed and when she did, blood came from her mouth. She gasped one more time, then Cade watched as the life left her eyes.

  February, 1874

  The Red House was back in Jeter’s hands, freshly painted and refurbished, considered by many to be the best of the twenty-six saloons in Dodge City. More of a club, than a saloon, it was a place that welcomed men and women, and Magnolia was the gracious hostess.

  When Herman and Norma Fringer came in, there were flakes of snow hanging on their hats and clinging to their coats.

  “Oh, it’s still snowing out there!” Norma s
aid with a shiver as she began to take off her coat.

  “Here, let me help you,” Magnolia said, holding the shoulders as Norma slipped out of it.

  Norma laughed. “The snow doesn’t seem to be bothering Mr. McCall and Chantal though.”

  “What? What do you mean? Are they out there?”

  “Step out and see for yourself. He’s pulling her up the street on a sled.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake he got her that thing for Christmas, and she has hardly gotten three feet away from it,” Magnolia said. She put on her own coat and stepped outside. Looking down Front Street, she saw Cade trotting toward her pulling a sled behind him. Chantal was on the sled, bound up in a coat and blanket. A huge grin spread across her face which was red from the cold.

  “Faster, Daddy, faster, faster!” she was calling.

  “I’m not a horse, darlin’, I’m a person,” Cade called back.

  “Cade McCall, what are you doing with that child out here in the frigid air? You need to get her somewhere warm,” Magnolia said when they drew near.

  “I’m not cold. I want to go on the sled,” Chantal said.

  “You heard her,” Cade replied, his smile as broad as the one on the little girl’s face. “She wants to go on the sled.”

  “All right, but not too much longer. You don’t want her getting sick.”

  “Grand mere’s making a pot of chicken soup,” Cade said. “One more time up and back, and we’ll go in. All right, sweetheart?” he added, turning toward Chantal.

  “I like chicken soup,” Chantal said.

  “I do too, especially when I can have it with my best girl.”

  Magnolia watched Cade break into a trot again, then she went back inside.

  “Is everything all right with Cade and Chantal?” Jeter asked as he helped her off with his coat.

  “Oui, Zheeter, tout est magnifique. It is so heartwarming to watch the two of them together.”

  “It is, isn’t it? More than anything else, she has given him a reason for living.”

  Epilogue

  Twin Creek Ranch, Howard County, Texas – 1927