by J. T. Edson
‘What’s it to you?’ challenged Enrique Obtener, halting and beginning to turn forward the barrel of the equally old Henry rifle in his hands.
While each man was wearing the attire of a working vaquero, neither had ever been employed in that or any other legitimate occupation. They were, in fact, bandidos from birth and choice, both having a mutually acute antipathy to any form of sweat-raising labor. Each was currently a member of the gang led by Ramon Peraro. For all that, the first speaker gave more of his loyalty to Jesus Sanchez and the second was an equally whole-hearted adherent of Edmundo Perez.
According to the old adage, great minds have a habit of thinking alike!
The minds of Obispo and Culebra, while devious, could hardly be termed great by any stretch of the imagination. In spite of this, their thoughts had run along almost identical lines after the departure of the Ysabel Kid from Bernardo’s Cantina. Before many minutes had elapsed, each had seen a way in which he believed he might be able to ingratiate himself with their leader. In one respect, it had been Sanchez who inadvertently supplied the suggestion of how this might be brought about to his hated rival. His comment about the honorable ways of Peraro had set both to thinking. How closely their cogitations had run along parallel lines was demonstrated by the meeting of the two men in the woodland some eight miles north and slightly east of Escopeta.
Excusing himself, when the suggestion was made by Marcos ‘el Cerdo’ Bordillo for the game of Spanish monte to be resumed, ostensibly to answer the call of nature, Obispo had crossed the room as if meaning to do so. On his way, he had selected his intended agent with great care. He had at least three men in his entourage who possessed qualities which might have made any one seem the logical choice, but he did not pick any of them. Being newly arrived and not yet known as an out and out adherent, Delgado had struck him as ideal. Seeing the surreptitious signal from the man he considered his actual leader, the newcomer had followed him from the cantina. Finding a spot in the darkness where they could talk without the danger of being overheard, Sanchez had given his instructions. As he had anticipated, the newcomer was sufficiently brave, but not intelligent enough to question the reason, for carrying out the orders.
On his return, Obispo had found Perez was absent. Such was his contempt for the intelligence of his rival, he had not suspected the departure was to do with anything other than bring relief to a set of bowels over flowing with mescal. Yet the purpose of Culebra had been identical to his own. Furthermore, in spite of having adherents of longer standing and who might have been more capable, he too had chosen a newcomer to act on his behalf.
Following the advice he had been given by Sanchez, Delgado had set off in the direction of the secret crossing by which the Ysabel Kid and Tomas Acusar had entered Mexico. Unknown to him, Obtener had left a couple of minutes later. Over the years, as the adherents of the three factions began to settle in their respective groups for mutual support and protection—except for those living among and spying upon the opposition—the town had become split into three sections. Therefore, leaving from their respective areas, they had traveled parallel to and on opposite sides of the trail which led to the crossing. Being aware of the kind of man they were stalking, although neither was willing to accept any gringo—even one with Indio blood—could be anywhere nearly as good as claimed, each had taken precautions against being seen or heard from other than a short distance. Aided by the open woodland of the terrain they were traversing, each had done this so effectively that the other had remained unaware of his presence in the vicinity while riding along.
Having covered about half the distance to the Rio Bravo with nothing to disturb his belief that he was the only hunter for el Cabrito, Delgado had seen a flickering red glow among the bushes not far ahead. Although he was still too far away to be able to discover who was near the campfire, he felt certain he had located his quarry. There was, to the best of his knowledge, nobody else in the vicinity. Telling himself that the ease with which he had found the black clad Texan was proof that all the stories he had heard were grossly exaggerated, he had nevertheless decided against riding any closer.
Dismounting and fastening his horse to a bush, Delgado had been on the point of commencing his stalk when he heard enough to warn him that he was not alone in the woodland. Taking cover, he had waited until the other traveler was close enough to be identified. It was not, as he had envisaged at first, el Cabrito who had somehow contrived to get behind him. Instead, the newcomer was a man of his own race. He remembered having seen the other around Escopeta, but not in the same company as he kept.
Which meant the newcomer belonged to one of the other factions!
Knowing something of the internal politics of the gang, Delgado had believed that the second bandido was part of the group which gave its complete loyalty to Peraro. Sharing his superior’s low impression of the intellect of Culebra, he could not believe a mission similar to his own would have been instigated from that source. In spite of his summation, however, he was annoyed by the arrival of the other man. He had been promised a sizeable reward for carrying out the assignment and had no wish to be deprived of it by an interloper.
Equally unsuspecting the possibility of outside interference until the moment when they faced each other, Obtener was no more enamored than Delgado at the discovery that he was not the only bandido hunting el Cabrito. Despite the instinctive response with his Henry rifle, he too drew an erroneous conclusion regarding the loyalties of the man who stepped from the bushes. It was, he concluded, unlikely that Obispo would care sufficiently about the affront placed upon their patron to try to have it avenged. However, he was to receive a sizeable gratuity from his jefe for killing the man responsible and was most displeased by the possibility of having somebody around who might interfere with him as he went to do so.
‘Don Ramon sent me aft—!’ Delgado began, but had just sufficient presence of mind to hold down his voice.
‘Don Ramon told me to—!’ Obtener commenced at the same moment, also taking the precaution of speaking softly.
‘So you are from the pair—!’ the lanky supporter of Sanchez ejaculated, before he could stop himself.
‘What did Don Ramon send y—?’ the equally scrawny adherent of Perez started to inquire, then he too realized he was being indiscreet.
Once again, both sets of words trailed off as each speaker began to appreciate the true state of affairs!
It had become apparent to the men that neither had been sent by Peraro!
It was a situation that neither bandido had envisaged!
Nor did either man feel it improved matters when the understanding of what was portended by the discovery struck home!
‘God damn it!’ Delgado spat out indignantly, yet still retaining just enough control to continue speaking almost as quietly. Starting to move his Spencer carbine back to the position of readiness from which he had allowed it to sag, he went on, ‘You’re one of that “mother-something” Culebra’s men!’
‘And you’re for that miserable son-of-a-whore fallen priest, Obispo!’ Obtener accused with equal vehemence, although he too was alert to the danger and refrained from raising his voice. ‘The patron didn’t send you!’
‘He didn’t send you, either!’ Delgado pointed out with some justification. ‘And, seeing I was here first, I’m going to take out Cabrito.’
‘Like shit you are!’ Obtener stated, crouching slightly. ‘Don Edmundo sent me to do it and—!’
‘Don Edmundo,’ snorted the Sanchez adherent derisively. ‘Since when does that goddamned half breed give orders?’
‘He’s got as much right to give them as that “mother-something” fallen priest of yours has!’ claimed the Perez supporter. ‘And I’m going to do what he told me!’
‘Like “something” you are!’ Delgado asserted. ‘That’s what I’m here to do and nobody is going to stop me!’
‘I wish you two bastards would make up your minds who’s going to kill me, then maybe I can get
some sleep!’
Apparently coming from the blackness thrown by the branches of a white oak tree about twenty feet from where the conversation was taking place, the comment was delivered in English!
Although each bandido had forgotten caution and was gradually speaking louder as tempers rose, they heard what was said!
Possessing no other language except that of their own country, neither Delgado nor Obtener understood the comment!
Both realized who must have spoken!
There was unlikely to be any other foreigner in the woodland!
Which meant the speaker must be the man who Sanchez and Perez had respectively sent the pair to kill!
‘It’s Cabrito!’ Delgado yelled in alarm, an instinct for self preservation overriding thoughts of inter-gang hostilities.
‘Over there!’ Obtener shouted, also forgetting rivalry in the stress of the moment, swinging his Henry towards the shadows beneath the white oak.
Moving almost as quickly as his erstwhile antagonist, their enmity discarded in the face of mutual peril, Delgado snapped the butt of the Spencer to his right shoulder. He too had estimated the position from which the voice originated, but was unable to see anything of the speaker. Concluding this was because of the Indian dark features and all black clothing of their intended victim (as Obtener was also deducing) he sighted and squeezed off a shot.
The deep bellow of the heavier discharge from the .52 caliber carbine echoed the sharper crack given by the twenty-eight grains of black powder from the .44 caliber cartridge in the Henry rifle!
Two bullets thudded into something!
However, the sounds indicated that whatever had been hit was considerably more solid than human flesh!
Confirmation that the attempt to kill the Kid had failed was very quickly forthcoming!
‘You guessed wrong!’ the mocking voice warned, speaking Spanish, but it now came from a spot some feet from the white oak.
Instantly and with profanely startled exclamations, the two bandidos began to turn their weapons in the appropriate direction!
While doing so, each man was making ready to fire again at the still unseen Texan!
Of the pair, Obtener was the better equipped to complete the recharging of an empty chamber!
Which proved unfortunate for the supporter of Perez!
Having estimated the type of weapons being employed against him, being guided by the different sounds of the detonations, the Kid had no doubt which assailant would pose the greatest danger to him. While both were using repeaters, because of the systems by which the respective mechanisms functioned, the Henry was much faster to reload than the Spencer. With each, moving the lever up and down served to eject the spent case and replace it with the next loaded cartridge from the tubular magazine regardless of the different positions of this aid to continuous fire. 17 However, there was a divergence of vital importance from that point in the operation. Before the Spencer could be discharged again, it had to be cocked manually. Where the ‘grandfather’ of the Winchester Model of 1873 carried by the Texan was concerned, the mechanism for reloading caused the hammer to be cocked at the same time.
Already cradling the Winchester in the firing position, the Kid swung its barrel to take aim with the speed and skill which had enabled him to win it against very stiff opposition at the First Cochise County Fair. 18 He knew his would-be killers were likely to be at least partially dazzled by the muzzle blast from their weapons. That was why he had spoken from his actual position without employing the almost ventriloquial quality learned as a child. 19 By doing so, he was hoping to create confusion for the short time he needed to follow through his proposed line of action.
Having aligned the rifle on where he guessed the chest of the man with the Henry to be, such was his faith in his skill, the Kid closed his eyes as his forefinger was completing the pressure needed to liberate the sear from the set trigger. The Winchester barked, emitting a sudden red glow, but his vision was not affected. Throwing the lever through the reloading cycle, he heard the distinctive thud of a bullet penetrating the chest cavity as he was lunging aside. By the time he halted, there was the crash of something heavy falling and the kind of rustling that is caused by limbs thrashing in mindless agony.
For all his speed, the Texan had only just moved swiftly enough!
Despite his eyesight having been somewhat impaired by the eruption of light as he and Obtener fired, Delgado wasted no time in responding to the threat. Halting the movement of the Spencer, he touched off a shot an instant after the man by his side was hit. By chance more than skilled lining of the sights, the heavy bullet passed through the space which his intended victim had only just vacated. Without waiting to discover whether he was successful nor not, he snatched down the trigger-guard lever of the carbine.
Once again the red hazel eyes of the Kid peered along the barrel of the Winchester. It cracked seven times, the lever being worked with such rapidity that the detonations formed a continuous roll of a drum rather than forming separate sounds. Nevertheless, he was moving the barrel fractionally in the brief intervals that the lever was being manipulated. Spreading out like the ribs of a fan, instead of following one another in Indian file, the bullets engulfed the man at whom they were being directed so effectively. No less than four of them ploughed into his torso, sending him flying from his feet. The Spencer, with its action still open, left his hands as he was falling and they both landed on the ground at almost the same moment.
Once more, the Texan changed position as soon as he had finished firing. Although he took shelter behind a tree which was sufficiently sturdy to halt any further lead sent at him, none came. Instead, there was only the decreasing volume of the thrashing from where his first victim had fallen and the hoarse sound known as a ‘death rattle’ originating at the point where the other bandido had gone down.
Both noises soon died away!
Despite the suggestions that he had succeeded in dealing with both his assailants, the Kid was too experienced a fighting man to take unnecessary chances. Instead of leaving his position of safety when the sounds came to an end, he remained where he was. Watching and listening for any indication that one or the other bandido was only pretending to be dead, he also gave thought to what could have led to the attempt upon his life.
A desire to avoid possible trouble and danger to the Anglo and Chicano population in the area of the fight in the clearing, rather than a sense of honor, had caused the Kid to visit Escopeta. He had known that even killing Tomas Acusar and burying all three bodies would not have been sufficient to prevent some kind of reprisal from taking place. When Sebastian Montalban and the brothers did not return, Peraro would have sent men to look for them. Knowing Mexican bandidos as well as he did, the Texan felt certain they would not merely restrict themselves to carrying out a search. They would go on a looting expedition and, when doing so north of the Rio Grande, it was not their habit to leave behind living witnesses.
Therefore, the Kid had gambled on the pretence of Peraro to be a man of honor to prevent such a search and raid being made. Although he had never heard the term, he was counting upon playing to the ego of the bandido leader, not only to preserve the potential victims from a foray, but also to allow him to leave the town alive. However, regardless of having achieved this, he had not allowed himself to believe he was completely safe. Being aware of the possibility, he had taken steps to circumvent any attempt made upon his life. Selecting an area from which the light of a campfire would be seen, he had baited the trap and, hearing his would be attackers approaching, had gone to spring it with all the deadly skill of a name warrior of the Pehnane Comanche’s famed Dog Soldier war lodge. Although he had heard enough to believe that the two bandidos were not acting upon the orders of their leader, but had been sent by Sanchez and Perez who had each hoped to score off the other, he was now faced with how to handle the latest development. After giving the matter his consideration, he felt sure he could produce an acceptable solution.
Five minutes went by, during which there was no movement whatsoever from the two mounds on the ground. Then, regardless of his belief that both were dead, he took the Winchester in his left hand and drew the Colt Dragoon revolver with the right, as being easier to wield at close quarters, before leaving his place of concealment.
‘Damn it to hell!’ the Kid growled under his breath, thinking of the wager in which he was involved with other members of the OD Connected ranch’s floating outfit. Then, as he was advancing warily, he grinned and went on just as quietly, ‘I wonder if I can say this fuss, being down in Mexico, don’t count as getting into trouble?’
Seven – I Wouldn’t Advise You to Try
Panting for breath, Don Ramon Manuel Jose Peraro rolled tiredly from the naked and profusely perspiring body of Florencia Cazador. Entwining her arms and legs about him, she sought to prevent him from doing so. As he pulled to free himself from her grasp, he was willing to concede that he had never met her match as a bed mate. For all that, there were times when he found her enthusiasm for making love too demanding. Despite the blow he had given her earlier, or perhaps because of it, this was one of those occasions. Satisfying her lust when she was in such a mood was beyond him. Therefore, as she writhed around to press her hot mouth against his in a savagely passion-filled kiss, and tried to tear at his bare back with fingernails that experience had taught him to insist were kept too short to scratch, he was more relieved than annoyed at hearing an urgent pounding at the door.
Wondering who would be calling at such an hour, the bandido chief shoved the girl away. Being too wise to resist at such a moment, she restricted herself to a hiss of annoyance over the interruption to her pleasure and untangled her limbs. Liberated, he thrust aside the covers and rose. Concealing his nakedness beneath a scarlet silk dressing gown from the chair at the side of the bed, he picked up his Colt Civilian Model Peacemaker before crossing the room.
