The Floating Outfit 44

by J. T. Edson

  ‘Man’d say we don’t have much chance right now,’ Dusty answered. ‘The odds are high against us.’

  ‘I did hear about a fight at some place called the Alamo. You colonial chappies didn’t do too badly against the odds there.’

  Dusty chuckled. In spite of his anxiety he could appreciate the young Englishman’s cool attitude and quiet sense of humor. He’d always thought the English a peculiar, stuffy and humorless people but Brit was far from what he expected. ‘We didn’t do too badly in seventy-six, either.’

  ‘My dear chap.’ Brit eyed Dusty through his monocle in a severe way, copied from his form-master at Eton. ‘You were part of us then.’

  The Ysabel Kid whistled through his teeth. He was silent and letting the other two talk. Then he spoke, although his words did not appear to have any connection with anything said before, ‘Wonder if Cousin Bill’s still working on the Baker place, down in Lee County?’

  This was over Brit’s head, but Dusty knew straight away what the Kid was thinking. It was real smart thinking and opened up a whole lot of possibilities.

  ‘Comes morning I’ll ask Mark to go into town and send a telegraph message off and find out. There’s a few other gents I’d like to know about at the same time.’

  Brit could not see how this followed on from what they’d been talking about, but he did not ask, for they were nearly to the house now. None of them spoke again as they came to the corral and swung down from the horses. The Kid whistled and like a ghost his big white stallion materialized from out of the night, followed by the paint and the bloodbay.

  Removing the saddle from his borrowed horse the Kid changed to his white. His own saddle was headed across the range somewhere but he knew the horse would return with it to the ranch house when the panic died. He pulled the dead cowhand’s rifle from the saddle boot and shoved his own Winchester into it, then swung afork the white.

  ‘Lon!’ Dusty’s voice cut across as the Kid turned his horse to head for town. ‘You come straight back here. Not by way of Santone’s.’

  The Kid’s teeth flashed white against the darkness of his face. ‘Don’t you trust lil ole me?’

  ‘In a word, no. You come right back here.’

  The Ysabel Kid gave a mocking laugh and turned his horse, heading for the town at a fast lope. Without the orders just given he would have headed for the Lazy F and settled accounts with Santone or gone under in the attempt. Now he would return here straight after delivering his message and delay his attack. Even as he rode for town he found himself muttering a Comanche Dog Soldier lodge oath that Santone would not be alive by the end of the week, or the Ysabel Kid would be dead.

  Brit watched the young man riding away. ‘I’ve never seen a man who looked so dangerous as the Kid. He reminds me of the hill men on the North-west Frontier of India.’

  ‘Lon’s real dangerous all right. More so right now. He’s feeling bad about the ambush, like I am. He’s the best scout in the west and I don’t bar either Cheyenne Bodie or Bronco Layne from the list. He’s feeling bad about not seeing the ambush. God help anybody who crosses him right now.’

  Dusty stood for a moment looking at the house. Then he shook his head and started forward. Brit followed, watching Dusty, knowing the Texan would rather be leading a cavalry charge against a regiment than facing the task of telling the two girls the news.

  They stepped on to the porch and Dusty was about to knock when Brit reached for a small knob set at the side and pulled it. From inside the house somewhere a bell jangled loud in the stillness. Brit’s face held a smile like the grin on a skull as he turned to Dusty. ‘I fitted that up for the bosses. Jack was amused by it, said it gave the place a bit of real tone. All we needed was a butler to answer it.’ From up above a window was lifted and the sound of a Winchester rifle being cocked came to their ears. Then a sleepy voice asked, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Me’n Brit, Miss Gloria,’ Dusty replied, stepping back out where the girl could see him.

  ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

  Gloria’s head and rifle disappeared again and the window closed down. Dusty returned to the porch and stood by Brit, conscious the young Englishman’s breathing was heavy and knowing Brit was not relishing this. They stood in silence, then through the transom of the door saw a glow of light and heard footsteps.

  The door opened and a lantern bathed them in light. Gloria stood in the hall, the lantern in her hands throwing its light over her. Brit never forgot his first view of the girl, her hair rumpled and untidy, her pretty face flushed and sleepy eyed, her nightgown covered by a long housecoat and her feet bare. Behind her, dressed in the same way, face paler yet still schooled and aloof stood Rene.

  ‘Hey Dusty,’ Gloria greeted, smiling. ‘You boys come ahead of the others?’

  ‘Mind if we come in, Miss Gloria?’

  ‘Come ahead,’ Gloria replied, her smile fading as she saw the expression on Dusty’s face and knew something very bad was wrong. Her instincts almost made her clairvoyant and she licked her lips. ‘What is it, Dusty?’

  Watching the two men walk by her Gloria was struck by the serious looks on their faces. She hardly noticed the monocle which looked so incongruous in Brit’s eye, hardly even noticed him at all, her full attention being on the young Texan. For a moment Dusty’s eyes met hers, then looked away but in that brief exchange of glances Gloria was almost sure she knew what was wrong. Her legs felt weak and for once she could hardly think, let alone speak.

  ‘What is it, Dusty?’ Rene came forward. She too could see the worry on the face of the young Texan and knew that something very serious had happened.

  Dusty took a deep breath and tried to think of a suitable reply. In the war he’d twice been in the same sort of position, telling of the death of a loved one. He’d not liked the task then and he liked it far less now. He looked at Brit and the young Englishman suggested they went into the sitting-room. Gloria led the way, lighting the big lamp on the table with hands that shook.

  ‘Dusty,’ her voice was urgent. ‘What is it?’

  Dusty tried to avoid her eyes, looking round the large room. It was a comfortable looking room, with a polish-topped table and half a dozen straight backed chairs in the center. Other deep, comfortable looking armchairs were in the corners. The walls on three sides were decorated with painting. The fourth had a large, open fireplace with a cupboard on either side of it. Over the fireplace was hung a pair of crossed Comanche war lances, a buffalo shield, a war bow and a quiver of arrows. At last he looked back at the girls who took a deep breath.

  ‘Is it the herd?’ Rene asked, her voice even.

  ‘It’s pappy, isn’t it?’ Gloria spoke in a strangled voice.

  This was the moment Dusty feared. The moment when he must tell the girls the truth. ‘Yes, your pappy and Mr. Hamilton.’

  Gloria stood rigid, her face losing all its color. ‘Are they ?’

  ‘Yes, both of them. Killed without a chance.’

  Seven – The Note Falls Due

  Gloria’s breath came out in a quick gasp. She stood for an instant without a move. Then with a cry she twisted round and into Rene’s arms. The blonde girl’s face was even paler, but she held Gloria to her and soothed the sobbing girl as if she was handling a baby. It took several minutes before Gloria could get control of her nerves again. Her eyelids were red and swollen as she turned a tear-stained face to Dusty but her voice was steady and without trace of hysteria.

  ‘How did it happen, Dusty?’

  ‘We were bushwhacked out at the coulee. They had us whipsawed, under their guns.’ He braced himself and went on. ‘It was all my fault. I—’

  ‘No Dusty!’ Gloria took his hands in hers. ‘Pappy was bossing the drive, you were riding as a hand. You aren’t at fault. What happened?’

  ‘One of the men shot down your father and Mr. Hamilton. The others were shooting at us, then Santone threw dynamite into the herd. The Kid got two of them but the rest pulled out.’

  Rene lo
oked at the young man. Gloria had told her much about this small, insignificant-looking young man; things she could hardly believe, even though she knew Gloria would not be lying. She also knew he was blaming himself bitterly for the ambush and his failure to prevent it. She came alongside Gloria, her face still schooled as she fought to hold down her grief. Placing her arm round Gloria’s shoulders she looked straight at Dusty.

  ‘We do not blame you, Captain Fog. Nor do we think you failed us in any way. Are the others all right?’

  ‘Brazos took lead in the shoulder and we lost a few horses but the herd’s scattered and we won’t be able to gather it again in time. Just and Mark stayed out there with—’ He paused, then went on. ‘Brit’ll be taking fresh horses and a wagon out there.’

  ‘Where’s the Kid?’ There was a sudden suspicion in Gloria’s voice, for she knew much about the way of Loncey Dalton Ysabel.

  ‘I sent him to town to notify the sheriff, not that it’ll do us any good. Like I said, the man who led the raid and threw the dynamite was Santone and the sheriff won’t move against him. Comes morning Mark, Lon and I’ll make our own move against Santone.’

  ‘No you won’t,’ Gloria snapped. ‘They’ll be expecting you and we need every man here tomorrow. Pappy would want you to take over as foreman, Dusty. So do we. I don’t want the boys riding out tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll see to it,’ Dusty promised, knowing all the men would be needed to attend to the burying of the two ranchers.

  For the first time Rene spoke an order. ‘Leave it to the law, Dusty.’

  ‘The law in Azul Rio belongs to Lanton, I’m afraid, Miss Hamilton,’ Brit put in, his accent matching her own in its cultured sound. ‘We can expect no help from him. The only law for KH is what we make ourselves.’

  ‘This is Brit, Miss Gloria, Miss Hamilton,’ Dusty remembered the girls did not know the other man.

  ‘Charmed,’ Brit said, putting more than just formal feeling into the word as he took Gloria’s offered hand, then turned with a smile to Rene. ‘I think we’ve met before.’

  Rene stared at Brit, her face showing some emotion for once, surprise and interest crossing the carefully schooled features. ‘Good heavens, you’re the Ea—!’

  ‘Here I am known as Brit, Miss Knight, and I would prefer to remain that way, please.’

  She stopped at the gentle interruption, hardly knowing how to carry on. Gloria could see her friend’s difficulty. ‘I’ll make you a cup of coffee before you go back to the herd,’ she said. ‘Come and help me, Rene.’

  ‘Of course.’ Rene was only too pleased to have something to do, even if it was only helping to make a cup of coffee. At the door she stopped and looked back. ‘You said the Kid has gone to town. Was that wise, Dusty. He might meet some of the men who—’

  ‘He might at that and it will be real dangerous. For them. He’s on his old Thunder horse now and that white can smell a hidden man like a redbone hound hitting a coon line. If they try to ambush the Kid I pity them. I’d back him in the dark against the best Lanton’s got and then some.’

  While waiting for the coffee Dusty and Brit went out to harness a team to the chuck wagon in the barn, and catch fresh horses for the other members of the crew. They returned and drank the coffee, hardly tasting it and not talking. At last Dusty rose and went to the girls, ‘We’ll be back as soon as we can. You’d better stay in one room, Miss Rene.’ She looked at him, face strained and holding back tears. ‘Sometimes it helps to cry.’

  The following morning the men of the ranch crew sat around the table moodily eating their breakfast. Old Brazos was leaning back in a chair, his arm in a sling and bandages showing under his shirt collar. Every one of them was unshaven, faces lined with lack of sleep and worry. It was the Ysabel Kid, looking mean and more Comanche than ever, who put the question on all their minds.

  ‘When do we ride?’

  ‘Not until Gloria says so and it won’t be yet,’ Dusty answered. ‘So you just sit and simmer down.’

  He could read mutiny in every lace as the others looked at him and knew they would be hard to hold. Then the door of the room opened and Brit rose to his feet, followed by the others as the girls came in. They both wore simple black dresses and their faces bore mute testimony to the grief they were feeling. Yet both were composed as they took the seats offered to them by the men. Rene looked at the circle of faces around the table and stood up again.

  ‘I would like to thank all of you for what you’ve done for us.’

  ‘Thanks aren’t necessary, Miss Hamilton. We regret it was not enough,’ Brit answered for the others, removing his monocle and polishing it, conscious that Gloria was looking at him with considerable interest. ‘I think I can say for all of us that we are at your service for as long as you wish.’

  ‘Which won’t be long,’ Gloria put in. ‘You’re forgetting the bank note falls due today. The banker’ll be coming out here at nine o’clock and he’ll want either the herd or the money.’

  ‘Hell, I could let you have the money but I’m short right now,’ Mark put in. ‘But you know pappy’ll send it along to you as soon as he hears.’

  ‘I know that, but the banker works for Lanton. He’s not going to wait, he’ll be coming to foreclose, not to get paid.’ Mark’s fist lifted and crashed down on to the table hard enough to make the plates and cups leap. ‘He’ll wait or I’ll make him wish he’d never been born.’

  ‘Which same won’t help none,’ Dusty remarked, knowing Mark was quite capable of carrying out his threat. ‘They’ve got the law on their side and I don’t just mean that fat no-good in town there. We could handle him but we can’t fight Uncle Sam.’

  ‘Dusty’s right on that,’ Gloria agreed. ‘Besides Uncle Mike and pappy took the money in good faith and no matter who the banker is we’re paying him back the same way.’

  ‘Hell, this whole damned business was rigged to get the KH,’ the Kid growled. ‘I say to hell with the banker and let’s take Lanton right now.’

  There was a rumble of agreement from Mark, Brazos and Just at this. Gloria looked around the table, knowing the men were willing to fight and die for her. She was about to speak when Brit coughed and removed his monocle once more.

  ‘Ladies, your fathers hired me in the fond belief they were helping a down and out rip. I may be a rip but I am not quite down and far from out. Came out here to find a bit of excitement. The old world’s a bit played out for that sort of thing, don’t you know. Wanted to learn the cattle business with the view to taking a suitable place. Anyway, I appear to be waffling on somewhat but what I want to say is, if you’ll accept it in no sense as being charity, I am willing to loan you the money. Right now.’ He reached into his shirt and took out a thick, pigskin wallet with a gaudy colored seal engraved on it. ‘There’s three thousand dollars there for the banker and I have more if it is needed.’

  Rene took the wallet, feeling the weight of it and looking at Gloria. For once in her life the little redhead could not think of any suitable words for an occasion. It was left to Rene to reply.

  Thank you, my lo—’

  ‘Brit!’ he gently reminded her.

  Thank you, Brit. I have enough money to cover the loan but it hasn’t been transferred over here yet. I thank you for both Gloria and myself.’

  ‘Now hold hard for a minute,’ Gloria snapped. This is a partnership and you aren’t going to pay it all back. Brit, the ranch is the security on your loan.’

  ‘My dear young lady,’ Brit eyed Gloria severely, screwing his monocle into his eye again. ‘I require no security other than your guarantee of permanent employment on the KH.’

  Gloria had to smile, despite her misery. The young Englishman, with his strange accent and his monocle was something she’d never met before. He was so cool and calm about everything and she suspected the monocle was no more than an affectation. ‘One more useless loafer round the place won’t make any difference,’ she answered. ‘Now you bunch get some sleep.’

  �
�Later,’ Dusty came to his feet, once more in command. ‘Just, you and Mark tend to that chore I gave you. Brit, you and the Kid look to the remuda. Brazos, you’re riding the wagon for a spell, get to bed and from under foot. Gloria, I reckon you and Rene got some work to do so don’t sit around the fire all the morning.’

  Gloria came to her feet. She knew Dusty was giving her and Rene work to stop them brooding. Coming to a military brace she raised her hand in a salute. ‘Yes, sir, Cap’n Fog, sir. Right away, come on Rene. That’s how you tell a ranch foreman. He can’t rest and doesn’t want anybody else to get any either.’

  The banker’s coming, Dusty.’

  The Ysabel Kid came into the barn where Dusty was watching the Azul Rio undertaker preparing the bodies for burial. Dusty turned and went to the door, looking out. ‘Stay on here, Lon,’ he ordered. ‘Mark, come along and see what comes out.’

  Banker Ames drove his buggy in front of the KH house and halted. He was a tall, florid, well-dressed man with the smooth skin of an Eastern dude. His clothes were faultlessly cut and he wore them well, his entire appearance being one of well-being and self-assurance. He was vaguely worried as he climbed down from the buggy, for he’d heard of the killing of the two ranchers. The rumor he’d been given was the rest of the KH crew were either dead, departed, or so badly wounded they would be able to do nothing either in defense or offence. He felt the bulge of the title deeds in his inside coat pocket. There was little need to have brought the deeds along except as a matter of form. He was coming to take the ranch, not hand over the deeds.

  Looking at the two girls standing side by side on the porch he was struck by the pallid beauty of the former and the forlorn dejection of the smaller. He could read the grief in their faces as he came nearer. The blonde’s expression told him nothing but the other looked as if the world was coming to an end. It was the look of a woman who sees her home gone from her.

  ‘I must express my deepest regret at your bereavement, ladies,’ he said, his voice oily and ingratiating. ‘I was deeply shocked to think such a thing could happen in the Azul Rio.’