Stranglehold

by William W. Johnstone

  “Don’t shoot until he’s clear of the teams,” Captain Bond called. “We’ll chase him through to the other side.”

  Bond had caught up with his men, and they pushed their way through the herd. The animals were still agitated from Wang’s passage but a moment earlier, and they wheezed, whickered, and stamped around.

  “There he is!” Bond said when they emerged from the horses a few seconds later.

  They saw Wang just standing there, making absolutely no effort to flee.

  “Kill him!” Bond said. “He isn’t even armed.”

  “No, he ain’t armed,” Elmer said. “But me ’n Duff is both armed.”

  As Elmer spoke, he and Duff stepped out from behind a knee that ran at right angles to the ridge. It wasn’t a very large knee, but it was large enough to have successfully concealed the two of them as Bond and his men had chased after Wang.

  “What the hell! Shoot ’em, shoot ’em!” Bond yelled and, forgetting all about Wang, the three men turned their weapons on their new targets.

  The little valley rang with the roar of half a dozen or more gunshots. When the smoke cleared Bond and his two men were down, while Duff and Elmer, holding still-smoking guns, and Wang, who had not moved since being confronted by Bond, were still standing. Not one of the seven men who had brought the Parrott guns to Crowley’s Ridge was still alive.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “What the hell, Drexler! Look at that! Damn if Schofield ain’t bringin’ them cannons in big as life. Three of ’em. Shoot ’em! Shoot ’em!” Truax shouted as he raised his rifle to his shoulder.

  “No, wait!” Drexler called, holding his hand out to stop the shooter. “That’s MacCallister!”

  “Yeah,” Truax said, lowering his own rifle. “’N Gleason ’n the Chinaman is both with ’im. What the hell do you think it is that they’re a-doin’?”

  Drexler laughed. “It looks to me like they’re bringin’ us some cannons. Three of ’em.”

  “Damn it if don’t!” Truax laughed.

  And not only Truax but all the others who were gathered there joined in the laughter.

  When Duff, Elmer, and Wang arrived with the three Parrott rifles, they were greeted enthusiastically by as many as a dozen of the Home Guardsmen.

  “How in the world did you come by them three guns?” Morley asked.

  “They was sittin’ out there ’n there warn’t nobody a-usin’ ’em, so we just took ’em,” Elmer said.

  “How is it that you shoot them things?” Truax asked.

  “Are you serious?” Morley asked. “You don’t even know how one of them is shot?”

  “I ain’t never been in the army before, ’n I ain’t never seed none of ’em what was bein’ shot at the time I was lookin’ at it.”

  “Captain Morley,” Duff asked, using Morley’s newly appointed rank. “Would ye be for thinkin’ that ye could show a few of the men how to use these guns?”

  “Yes, sir, I can show ’em,” Morley replied. “We goin’ to turn the tables on Schofield, ’n shoot back at him?”

  Duff smiled. “Aye, ’tis my intention to do so.”

  * * *

  “When are we going to attack, General?” Lieutenant Fillion asked.

  Peterson held up his hand. “Our attack is supposed to be coordinated with the concentrated artillery fire upon their fortifications, but we’ve heard nothing from Captain Bond for a while.”

  “Maybe he is waiting to hear from us,” Fillion suggested.

  “We have sent him heliograph signals, but have gotten no response, and I hesitate to attack until our efforts can be well coordinated.”

  “I wonder why Captain Bond quit firing,” Fillion asked.

  “First Sergeant Cobb?” Peterson called.

  “Yes sir?” Cobb replied.

  “Take the fastest horse and ride around Crowley Ridge to where Captain Bond has established his base of operations. Tell him I am most displeased with his failure to carry out my orders. I wish to attack at the soonest opportunity, so he is to continue firing.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cobb replied.

  Selecting a fast horse, First Sergeant Cobb left the encampment to carry out General Peterson’s orders. Cobb didn’t like Bond, and he smiled as he contemplated being able to tell Bond that the general was displeased with him. He intended to make Bond well aware of how displeased Peterson was.

  It took him no more than fifteen minutes to reach the area where Bond was supposed to be, but he didn’t see any of the guns. He understood why they hadn’t heard any firing, recently. It was obvious that the guns had been moved.

  Sergeant Cobb’s smile grew larger. He was well aware that any movement would have been made without the approval of General Peterson. That, Cobb knew, would make Peterson even angrier, and that would give Cobb more ammunition in expressing the general’s displeasure.

  “Bond, you’re in for it now,” Cobb said under his breath. “Yes, sir, when I get through with you, you’ll . . .” He grew quiet in midsentence and stopped riding. Standing in his stirrups, he examined the ground before him. Seven lumps were lying on the ground, which he knew to be the seven men who had begun shelling the town. There was no need for a closer examination to determine that the seven men were dead.

  But where were the three Parrott guns?

  * * *

  “How do you plan to use the artillery you just acquired?” General Culpepper asked.

  The question was asked over lunch in the Bear Tracks Restaurant. Mayor McGregor was there, as were Meagan and Lucy.

  “’Tis my intention to move the guns to the north end of town and use them in defense of Schofield’s next attack,” Duff replied.

  “Might I make a suggestion?” General Culpepper asked.

  “Aye, I would welcome any suggestion ye might have.”

  Culpepper had a piece of paper and a pencil before him. “The five men you and Mr. Gleason killed in the Hidden Trail Saloon were Schofield’s men,” he said as he put down the number five. “Mr. Gleason killed a man who was discovered to have a map of our fortifications on his person.” Culpepper added a one. “During their reconnoiter, they lost two men. During their first full-scale attack they lost six men. Only four were killed but two were captured, so the effective loss is six. Nine of Schofield’s men that we know of were killed in their second attack, and it is quite possible that more were lost north of town that we know nothing about. You, Mr. Gleason, and Mr. Wang killed seven more when you captured the guns.”

  Culpepper added up his figures. “That is a total of thirty-six men who have been removed from Schofield’s active roster, and even if we take the most inflated estimate of his strength, this means his effective fighting force has been cut in half.” He smiled. “I believe the time has come to go on the attack.”

  Duff’s return smile was even broader. “General, that is an excellent idea!”

  * * *

  The Home Guard had increased in size. Having accepted many of those he had previously eliminated, Duff had an army of forty men standing in front of the hardware store, gathered there to hear him share his plans.

  “Gentlemen, we’ll nae be waiting for Schofield to come to us anymore. From here on we’ll be the attacking army.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Morley shouted in appreciation, and the others cheered their approval.

  “Have any of ye experience with cannons such as these we have acquired?”

  Darrel Wright, who had initially been turned away from serving in the Home Guard for being too old, raised his hand.

  “Ye have experience with cannon such as these?” Duff asked.

  “They ain’t cannons,” Wright said. “Cannons is smooth bore. These here is Parrott rifles, on account of they have rifled bores.”

  “’Tis thanking ye I am for the information,” Duff said. “Tell me, Mr. Wright, would ye be for knowing how to operate such weapons?”

  “I was a sergeant in General Henry Hunt’s Artillery at Gettysburg,” Wright said.


  “I remember General Hunt,” Culpepper said. “One of the most capable Yankee generals of the entire war, and one who employed his artillery brilliantly. If this gentleman was with Hunt, he will indeed be an asset to our little army.”

  “Mr. Wright, ye are now Lieutenant Wright, in command of our artillery. Please find the men ye will need and train them to operate the guns.”

  “Yes, sir!” Wright said with a broad proud smile. He selected the men for the three guns, and began instructing them on how to load, aim, and fire the weapons.

  Not counting Elmer and Wang, that left Duff with thirty-three men, and he organized them for the attack. They would advance on foot in three ranks of eleven.

  Within the hour all was ready, and the three newly acquired guns of the Home Guard artillery fired their first barrage.

  * * *

  The question as to what had happened to the three missing guns was answered when the first rounds fell within the confines of the encampment Peterson had set up a mile north of Antelope Wells.

  “They’re shooting our own cannons at us!” one of Peterson’s men shouted.

  “Artillery, return fire!” Peterson ordered.

  The Napoleons had already been loaded in preparation for the planned attack, so men responded immediately to Peterson’s order. The roar of the three guns rolled out over the encampment.

  “They’re coming! They’re coming!” The shouts came from a mounted legionnaire who came galloping up from the south. He had been sent out earlier with instructions to keep an eye on the town so Peterson would know what his men would be riding into when he launched the attack.

  “They’re coming! They’re coming!” the rider repeated as he reached the encampment.

  “Lambert, what are you shouting about?” Peterson asked.

  Before Lambert could answer the question, three more rounds came crashing into Peterson’s encampment, the bursting shells sending out whistling shards of jagged metal.

  “Damn!” someone called. “That shell kilt Dolan!”

  “Who is coming?” Peterson asked when he could be heard again.

  “The men from town,” Lambert replied. “They must be at least forty of ’em. ’N guess what? They got uniforms! I mean, it’s a regular army that’s comin’ after us. This ain’t nothin’ like what we run into before. These people ain’t just stayin’ there a-waitin’ for us. They’re comin’ after us!”

  Peterson looked out over his troops. He had begun the operation with not quite thirty men, but Bond and the six men he had taken with him had been killed. Dolan was killed just a moment ago, and two of his men had been wounded. That left him with less than twenty effective men.

  “How many did you say there were?” Peterson asked.

  “A lot more ’n we got,” Lambert answered.

  “Are they mounted?”

  “No, sir, they ain’t.”

  Peterson nodded. “Good, that will give us time to withdraw before they get here.”

  “General, we ain’t a-runnin’ from ’em, are we?” First Sergeant Cobb asked in surprise.

  “I did not say run, nor did I say retreat,” Peterson said sharply. “I said we are going to withdraw. That, First Sergeant, is a tactical maneuver.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “General, if we’re goin’ to skedaddle, then we got to get our teams hooked up to these caissons and limbers,” the gunnery sergeant said.

  “Are you charged and loaded now?” Peterson asked.

  “Yes, sir, we are.”

  “Fire one more barrage, then make haste to withdraw.”

  The gunnery sergeant nodded, then turned to the three gun crews. “Fire!” he shouted, and once more the encampment area was filled with a deafening roar.

  * * *

  As Duff and his men advanced at a swift walk, they heard the boom of cannon fire and expected the balls to fall within their ranks. Instead, the cannonballs flew way over their heads.

  “You got to wonder what it is that they are a-shootin’ at,” Elmer said. “’Cause it sure ain’t us, seein’ as them rounds passed so far over us that I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t land somewhere in Mexico.”

  “It looks as if they are shooting at the town,” Duff said.

  “What are they a-shootin’ at the town for?” Elmer asked. “You’d think they’d be shootin’ at us, seein’ as we’re the ones that’s comin’ after ’em.”

  “Maybe they don’t know we’re coming,” Duff suggested.

  Less than a minute after Duff’s comment, Wang came toward them from the north. He’d been sent in advance of the column more than half an hour before and was returning at a rapid trot. “They are gone.”

  “You mean we ain’t fixin’ to attack the right place?” Elmer asked, confused by Wang’s three word report.

  “No, I mean they were there, but now they are not. They are gone.”

  “Are they changing positions to attack us from a different direction?” Duff asked, knowing that was exactly what he would do if he were in command.

  Wang shook his head. “No, I saw them. They were riding their horses that way, very fast.” He pointed to the north. “I think they do not want to fight.”

  Elmer laughed. “I don’t think they want to fight, either. I think they are a bunch of cowards.”

  “Could you tell how many of them there were?” Duff asked.

  “It was difficult to count because I was so far away from them,” Wang said. “But I believe the number to be not more than twenty.”

  Duff smiled. “General Culpepper was right. We do outnumber then now.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Duff, Mayor McGregor, Sheriff Campbell, and General Culpepper were having a strategy meeting in McGregor’s office. George Gilmore and C. D. Matthews were there as well.

  “Looks to me like we’ve won,” Matthews said. “I don’t think they’ll be looking to attack us again.” He chuckled. “I’d say that about now they know they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.”

  “You aren’t saying we should disband the Home Guard, are you, C.D.?” Gilmore asked.

  “No, no. Now that we’ve got them trained and ready, I think we should keep them. As well as the cannons that Mr. MacCallister and his friends brought us.”

  “’Tis not enough, I’m thinking,” McGregor said.

  “Mayor, what do you mean that it’s not enough?” Gilmore asked. “I’m pretty sure that Schofield isn’t going to make the mistake of attacking us again. When you think about it, we not only saved the town, we have struck him quite a severe blow. His ill-considered attacks turned out to be quite costly insofar as the number of casualties he suffered.”

  “But would ye be considering this, Mr. Gilmore? ’Tis nae way we can really be free until the entire Bootheel is free. We’ve friends and neighbors in other towns who are suffering under this despot’s draconian rule,” McGregor said.

  “Mayor, they could have defended themselves when Schofield struck their town, just as we defended our town,” Gilmore insisted. “I don’t feel that it is up to us to do their job for them.”

  “But to be fair, Mr. Gilmore, when Schofield attacked the other towns they were caught by surprise. ’Twas what happened to them that gave us a warning of what could happen if we dinnae prepare for them,” McGregor said.

  “If we don’t strike Schofield while we have him on the defense, he will just rebuild his army and attack us again,” General Culpepper said. “We were able to beat him off because we had the element of surprise on our side. Now he knows that any attack against us would meet with stiff resistance, and he will plan accordingly.”

  “Aye,” Duff agreed. “And there is another thing to be considered. As long as Schofield controls the rest of this area you call the Bootheel, you are cut off here. Consider that you are in the bottom of a sack. Schofield has but to close the mouth of the sack. We will nae be able to come in or out, we will nae be able to get more supplies, not only ammunition, but food as well.”

  �
��What you are saying is, he really will have us in a stranglehold,” Matthews said.

  “What you are calling a stranglehold, stopping all from leaving or entering, is a classic military maneuver known as a siege,” General Culpepper said.

  “You’ve convinced me, General,” Gilmore said. “I say we should find Schofield and attack him before he is able to lick his wounds.”

  “Aye,” Sheriff Campbell said, speaking for the first time. “But where is the brigand hiding?”

  “We will know the answer to that by tomorrow,” Duff said.

  “How are we going to know by tomorrow?” Matthews asked.

  Duff smiled. “Ye might say that we have a secret weapon.”

  * * *

  “Why are you puttin’ that mud on your face?” Truax asked, as he watched Wang prepare himself for a scouting mission that night. “I mean if you’re tryin’ to make your face darker, that mud ain’t much darker ’n your face already is, you bein’ a Chinaman ’n all.”

  “All skin has natural oils that will shine in the moonlight,” Wang said as he continued to dab the mud on his cheeks. “This is not to make my skin darker. This is to keep the oil from shining.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Drexler said. “How is it that you know stuff like that?”

  “He learned that, ’n a whole lot more in that fightin’ school he went to,” Elmer said.

  “Fightin’ school? What kind of fightin’ school?” Truax asked.

  “It was a temple,” Wang replied, then without further response he started running and soon, disappeared into the night.

  “Damn,” Truax said. “He run off without a gun.”

  “He don’t never use a gun, ’cause he don’t never need one,” Elmer said.

  At that moment, unknown to Elmer or any of the others who had been present when Wang ran off into the darkness, Jake Hunter and Abe Libby were at the Clayton Livery.

  “Them’s our horses down there,” Hunter said.

  “Yeah, I told you he’d more ’n likely keep our’n separate from the others.”