by J. T. Edson
‘It was one of your respected ranchers did the killing.’
Ames turned to see who was speaking, for the voice came from the side of the house and was definitely masculine. Two hard-faced young Texas men came into view, their hardness not helped by the fact that neither of them had shaved. They advanced, looking as friendly and amiable as a couple of razorback hogs stropping up against a fence ready to take on all hands. The banker licked his lips, looking down at their hands as they stood there with thumbs hooked into gunbelts. There was a mistake somewhere, neither of this pair were wounded or incapacitated in any way.
‘Much as I regret the necessity,’ Ames decided that nothing would be gained by answering the young men and turned his attention back to the two girls on the porch, ‘I have to ask you for the payment of this note. Either three thousand dollars or three hundred head of white-face cattle.’
‘Today?’ Gloria sounded pathetic.
‘I’m afraid so. The bank must conduct all its business on time.’
‘Man, I bet you have a whing-ding when you’re foreclosing on some poor ole widder-woman,’ Mark growled.
‘Really, Miss Knight,’ Ames turned his face to the girl. ‘This is most uncalled for. Tell your hired men to keep out of my business.’
‘I wouldn’t be in it for the world,’ Dusty drawled. ‘I’m not part rattler.’
‘Dusty, please,’ Gloria cut in. She was playing a part and having enough trouble holding the pose without this added distraction. ‘This is my foreman, Captain Dusty Fog, and my cousin, Mark Counter.’
‘Tell Lanton when you see him,’ Mark said, moving to stand alongside Gloria. ‘It’ll make his day.’
The banker gulped. There would be some difficulty in evicting the two girls if they could not pay. Public opinion would be against the move and the county sheriff was not the sort who could handle either of these hard-eyed young Texas men.
‘About the money?’
‘What do you aim to do if we tell you to go straight to hell and fry there?’ Mark inquired.
‘I will be compelled to call in the Federal law,’ Ames replied, knowing the threat of local law would hardly deter or frighten Dusty Fog and Mark Counter. ‘But surely there will be no need for that, ladies. You are too sensible to allow such folly, it will only make bad trouble.’
‘Come into the office then,’ Gloria suggested.
Rene was watching all this and thinking what a marvelous actress Gloria would have made. In fact, if Rene did not know of the wallet in Gloria’s frock pocket she would have been sure her little friend was not able to pay off the note. In spite of her grief Rene was hard put to hold down laughter at the salty comments Dusty and Mark were making on the subject of bankers.
Gloria led them into the office, the small room facing the sitting-room across the hall. At the open-fronted bureau Brit was lounged in a chair. He turned round to look as the banker followed the girls in, then swung back to the business of lounging once more. Brit bent forward to hide his face, for he too was impressed by Gloria’s acting prowess. He too might have been fooled by her dejected look.
‘Please, can’t we have more time to pay?’ Gloria asked in a tone that would have made a Philadelphia lawyer’s heart melt.
‘I’m afraid not. I must have the note settled today or—’
‘Lanton might not like it,’ Dusty finished for Ames.
‘That’s right, I mean Mr. Lanton does not know a thing about this transaction. This is all most unsatisfactory, Miss Knight. I must have the settlement now.’
‘Deuced impatient chap, what?’ Brit drawled languidly, then turned as if to study the banker for the first time. ‘I say, who brought that bally dead fish in here Oh, I am sorry, old chappie. Honest mistake and all that sort of rot. The similarity is amazing.’
Ames was almost grinding his teeth in rage. He felt so impotent at the way these men treated him. The monocled eye was cold and dispassionate as it looked at him and as disconcerting as the cold watchful gaze of the two Texas men.
It was then Gloria decided she must cut in and spoil the boys’ fun. She could not hold her pose much longer, so taking out the wallet she held it forward. Ames stared down at the pigskin wallet, his hand going out hesitantly, then backing again as if he was afraid it would bite him, Gloria let the wallet fall to the desk top by Brit’s hand but Ames still did not attempt to take it.
‘Pick it up, dear fellow,’ Brit said cheerily. ‘It’s harmless although a touch gaudy. Had it made in Darjeeling and the cobbler johnny went and decorated it at the same time.’ Hesitantly Ames took up the wallet, opened it and pulled out a sheaf of hundred dollar bills. He stared down at the bills for a moment, then licking his lips started to count them. It took him time for his hands did not want to obey his brain. He hoped to find the money short and was disappointed when he reached the thirtieth bill. Looking like a sick puppy he faced Gloria and Rene who were standing side by side. It was then he realized the small girl had been acting all the time.
It appears to be all there,’ he said, and there was a tremor in his voice.
‘You sound disappointed,’ Rene remarked.
‘Certainly not, Miss Hamilton. Fm always delighted when business is transacted on time. But,’ he patted the side of his coat and a sickly smile came to his face, ‘I would appear to have left the deeds at the bank.’
‘Awkward,’ Dusty growled.
‘Deuced awkward,’ Brit agreed, then his face brightened with inspiration. ‘I say, we can let Dusty and Mark take the money to the bank for you along with a note in your hand asking for the deeds. You can stay on here until they get back. It’ll be quicker and safer for them than you.’
That did not appeal to Ames, who knew he’d be in bad trouble when the two Texans came back with the news that he was carrying the deeds with him. He reached into the inside pocket and with what he hoped to be well simulated surprise, took out the thick envelope containing the deeds. Forcing a laugh he held them out towards Gloria.
‘I’m sorry, they were in my pocket. I thought they were the papers for another deal.’
Brit took the deeds before Gloria could reach them. He looked up at the girl, ‘May I?’
‘Be my guest,’ Gloria replied, smiling. She was beginning to feel even more friendly to this strange talking young man.
‘Learned something of the law at Sandhurst,’ Brit told the others as he ran through the deeds with a professional gaze. ‘Took the liberty of making out a formal receipt. I know you won’t mind signing it.’
Ames sank into the chair Brit vacated, taking out his billfold and putting the money into it. He noticed the Texans watching him and wondered if they knew he was carrying a gun. Both Dusty and Mark knew, they’d seen the telltale bulge for they were long used to looking for hidden weapons. They were not surprised to see the banker was armed.
Reaching for the pen which lay on the desk, Ames took the receipt and read it through. The Englishman might talk strangely but he knew his law, for there was no legal loophole left in that receipt. There was one course open to Ames.
‘Funny thing about signatures, Dusty,’ Brit was saying even as the idea came to Ames. ‘Chappie always does them the same way. Take this one here on the deed, I would wager the banker johnny does the one of the receipt exactly the same.’
Ames signed his name at the bottom of the receipt and made sure he used his correct signature. He knew that any deviation from that signature would meet with dire suspicion and painful retaliation. His idea of, at a later date, making a claim that his signature was forged had faded and gone. However, there was one more hole card left to him.
Brit took a sheet of paper from his pocket, glanced at the column of numbers on it, then started to screw it up, saying, ‘I shouldn’t need this list of the serial numbers of those notes anymore.’ Stopping, Brit killed Ames’ relief unborn. ‘Better keep it though. This chappie here just might get robbed on his way back to town and our having the numbers would help the Pinkertons no end.�
�
Taking up his hat Ames looked at the sheet of paper. ‘Perhaps I’d better take the list with me.’
‘That would be foolish. If you were robbed they’d take the list with them, wouldn’t they? This way we know it is safe.’
The banker could see he was beaten now. His last hope would have been to pretend he’d been robbed, given the description of two of the KH men as the robbers. With KH holding the numbers he could not take that chance. He knew the Pinkerton Agency as being a very efficient organization who never gave up a trail once they were on it. The only way to take care of the money would be to burn it, for the Pinkertons would have the numbers and even after years might find the bills if they were kept and put back into circulation.
There remained only one thing to do now. Admit the ranch was lost to the Syndicate for the time being, Lanton would not like that but there was nothing more he could do. He wished Gloria and Rene goodbye and walked out of the room, ignoring the men.
Rene watched the man walking towards his buggy and shook her head. ‘I still don’t know why you wanted us to act the way we did, Dusty. You made a bad enemy in him.’
‘I never had me a good one yet,’ Mark pointed out.
‘Or me,’ Dusty agreed. ‘We played it this way to find out where the banker stood. He might be a conscientious man who wanted to handle his business on time, come what may. Or he might be working for Lanton, which we’ve proved he is.’
‘We surely did,’ Mark whooped enthusiastically. ‘Redtop, you should have been an actress. You’d make them all look like yearling stock. I like to died the way you acted.’
Brit chuckled. ‘May I say that I would pay good money to see you act, Miss Knight.’
She turned and looked at Brit. ‘Listen, you glass-eyed whatever you won’t let Rene tell us you are. You call me Miss Knight just once more and I’ll whup you so fast you’ll think the hawgs have jumped you.’
Rene’s face turned scarlet. She stared first at Gloria then at the smiling young Englishman. Before the laughing Brit could open his mouth to say anything Rene burst out:
‘Gloria, you don’t know who you’re talking to. This is the Earl of Hawksden.’
Eight – Rene Call War
Gloria and the others looked at the monocled Englishman. In the Eastern school Gloria got to know the various grades of European nobility and knew exactly what an Earl was.
Her face turned red and she gulped, then said, ‘I—I—’
‘And as you just now said. Gloria,’ Brit interrupted, smiling. ‘If you call me anything but Brit I’ll take rather severe steps myself.’
Dusty laughed. He knew the grades as well as Gloria but did not mean to allow it to alter his opinion of Brit as a man and a friend. ‘Reckon Brit’s good enough for me and the boys. We wouldn’t remember the rest of it anyways. Where did you and Rene meet?’
‘Hunting in Leicestershire,’ Rene answered. ‘Before the Ear—Brit went to India.’
The Ysabel Kid came into the room, jerking his head towards the door. ‘Folks coming, Dusty. Looks like that sheriff and some more along of a buggy. You’d best come on out.’
They all left the office and went on to the porch. The approaching party were coming through the ford. The sheriff rode alongside the buggy, three men wearing stars fanning out around him. Behind the buggy came a tall man riding easily afork a big bay horse. He wore the clothes of a rancher, a low-tied Colt 1860 Army revolver at his side, his face leathery and tanned by the elements. The buggy was driven by a big, fat man; a pretty, dark-haired Mexican girl by his side.
‘Who are they, Brit?’
‘Lynch, you know him. Three deputies, no accounts all of them. The chappie at the back is Painthoss. The young lady Miss Estradre.’
‘And the other?’
‘Lanton!’
‘Lanton?’ The word came out as a Comanche grunt from the Ysabel Kid, his right hand twisting back around the butt of his old gun.
‘Easy, Lon,’ Dusty ordered.
Lanton was a big man, as tall as Mark Counter and far heavier from the look of him. He was fat, very fat, his neck appearing to rise the same size as his head. Dressed in sober black Eastern clothes, with a gold watch chain across his vest and a gold signet ring as his only decorations. He was not happy fat, his eyes were small and piggy, his face brutish and his black hair slicked back with bay rum and parted in the center.
By his side Juanita Estradre sat ramrod straight, her face showing grief, for she’d been very fond of the Knights and felt the death of Jack Knight deeply. In her sober black dress she looked a pathetic sight on the seat of the buggy.
Lanton brought his buggy to a halt in front of the ranch and glanced at Dusty, then snapped, ‘Here you! My man! Hold the team while I get down.’
‘Go right to hell and fry there,’ was the soft drawled reply.
One of the deputies sent his horse forward. ‘You do what Mr. Lanton tells you.’
Dusty swung forward off the porch, his face expressionless. He went forward as if to obey. Then as he came level with the deputy his hands shot out, gripped the man’s boot and heaved. The deputy yelled as he was pitched out of the saddle. One of the other deputies dropped his hand towards the butt of his gun. Dusty came round, his left hand leaping across his body and bringing out his Colt, the hammer earing back as it lined.
‘What I said still goes,’ Dusty told Lanton and holstered his gun once more. The deputies both held their hands clear of their guns and the man on the ground lay gasping for breath, the wind knocked out of him by the fall.
Lynch snapped an order and one of the deputies swung down from his saddle to hold the heads of the buggy team.
The man Dusty had thrown from his horse got up but he kept his hands away from his guns. He knew the man he’d spoken to now and knew Dusty Fog could copper any bet he made.
Lanton climbed laboriously from the buggy and held his hand to the Mexican girl but she ignored it and climbed out the other side. Then Lanton turned and for the first time saw Rene Hamilton. His piggy eyes glinted as he looked at the pale, beautiful face. Here was a woman in a thousand, a proud and haughty beauty with grace and poise. She would be a fitting wife for any man. He was about to move towards Rene when he saw the ranch crew converging on him. This was puzzling for his partner, Santone, swore almost every man was badly wounded if not dead.
Juanita went towards Gloria, her face working nervously. ‘I am sorry this happened, Gloria. I would not have had it for the world.’
Gloria looked up sharply. They’d never called each other by their correct names but were always Neety and Rojo. Setting her face hard Gloria snapped, ‘It was one of your partners who did it. How did you come to tie in with this bunch?’
Juanita was about to speak when Lanton came alongside her. Her face went hard and she took a pace back. That is my business.’
Angrily Gloria turned away, not seeing the deep hurt in Juanita’s eyes. Lanton stopped at the foot of the porch and looked first at Dusty, then at the girls.
‘That was hardly the thing for a hired man to do to a duly appointed officer of the law,’ he said, his voice deep and husky.
‘On my spread my foreman handles any cheap hired gun any way he wants,’ Gloria turned and snapped back.
‘Your ranch?’ Lanton frowned. ‘I thought you had to meet a note to the bank today.’
‘We met it, got it paid, receipt signed and deeds locked safe away,’ she replied, her voice not hiding the dislike she felt for the man. ‘Didn’t your banker tell you all about it?’
‘My banker?’ Lanton looked puzzled. ‘You mean Mr. Ames. We passed him on the trail but he did not stop. May I offer my condolences, Miss Hamilton?’
‘How’d you know who Rene was?’ Gloria asked before her friend could answer. ‘We never said who she was in town.’
‘Happen Carron told him,’ Dusty suggested and could see he’d guessed correctly.
‘Carron?’ Lanton was a card player and schooled his features fas
t. He was revising his views of this small, insignificant looking young man. ‘Who might Carron be?’
‘A yeller rat the bosses fired. I figured he’d likely head back to his hole as fast as he could go. The same rat who ran to Santone and set us up for the kill.’
‘That’s a dangerous accusation, young man. Can you prove it?’ Lanton hid his surprise at the way Dusty called everything right.
‘When I need to I’ll prove it.’
The sheriff was watching all this and not knowing what to do, said: ‘All right, let’s get this inquest started. Let’s go—’
‘Round here folks take off their hats, they ask, not tell Cousin Gloria when they want something doing. You, being folks, had better try again. Just for me.’
Lynch looked at Mark Counter’s hard face and gulped down something, he removed his hat and turned to Gloria. ‘Can we start, please, Miss Knight.’
‘Sure. Go down to the barn, the undertaker’s there,’ Gloria held her voice firm. Brit came alongside her, taking her arm gently and escorting her from the porch.
Lanton watched the hard-faced young men who stood around. Though a dude, he’d seen enough of gunmen to know they were as handy looking a bunch as he’d ever seen. One thing he knew for sure was he would need all his men and more to handle them. He’d been expecting to find a pair of grief stricken girls to whom he could magnanimously offer to let stay on at the ranch for a few days. Instead he found them still the owners and backed by a tough bunch of cowhands. He stared at Rene again and would have made an attempt to get near her but his way was blocked by Just Smith, who moved in and took Rene’s arm.
For an instant red rage filled Lanton, his hand slipped under his coat and to the butt of the Webley Bulldog revolver in his shoulder clip. He chanced to glance towards the porch and what he saw brought his hand clear. Lounging on the porch, the Ysabel Kid’s hand was still twisted back around the butt of his old Dragoon gun. Lanton had been very close to death at that moment.
