Ole Devil and the caplocks

by Edson, John Thomas

  Provided, of course, that Di and Tommy were aware of what was happening!

  Ole Devil wished that he could tell whether they were or not.

  However, the Texian realized that the question would very soon be answered.

  Having advanced at a faster pace than their intended victims, the renegades were only about three paces behind the girl and the little Oriental. Although a number of the customers were able to see the pistols held by the center and left-hand men, it was typical of the type of people who came to San Phillipe that nobody gave a warning. For all that, the interest which some of the crowd were displaying served to notify the Texian that something was amiss, even if he had not already been aware of it.

  In one respect, the attitudes of the onlookers raised another problem for Ole Devil. Were any of them in cahoots with the renegades?

  The Texian was inclined to think that they were not. As Dodds's party had been alone at the table and, apparently, had only been there for a short time, they might have come in for a meal. In all probability, they had not expected him and his companions to arrive and were merely trying to take advantage of the situation.

  At which point, Ole Devil was compelled to turn his attention from such speculations. As there was still nothing to inform him of Di's and Tommy's state of readiness, he tensed and prepared to warn them. Even as he was reaching the decision, the little Oriental's right hand rose as if to thrust back his hat.

  Before Ole Devil could speak, Tommy demonstrated that he—for one—appreciated the situation and had made plans to deal with it. Raising his right hand had been a ploy to distract attention from his other actions. Closing his left fingers and thumb around the hilt of the tachi, he pulled forward and up until the blade was clear of the scabbard. At the same time, instead of continuing to walk forward, he stepped to the rear.

  "Kiai!" the little Oriental yelled, bringing down his left arm with the same rapidity that it had risen.

  Driving his left hand rearward, with the tachi's blade extending below its heel instead of ahead of the thumb and forefinger, Tommy sent the inverted "beak" point into his would be assailant's solar plexus. The speed with which the little Oriental had drawn the sword and the unconventional manner in which he was wielding it, aided by his unexpected change of direction, gave the renegade no chance to take evasive action. Nor, although the man had just started to bring the pistol from behind his back, was he able to use it and save himself. Pain numbed him and, as he stiffened involuntarily, the weapon slipped from his fingers.

  Like his companion, the second pistol-toting renegade was commencing to bring the firearm into use. While he was clearly startled by the discovery that at least one of their proposed victims had guessed what they were planning to do, he refused to become flustered. In fact, the urgency created by the changed conditions gave an added speed to his movements. Without giving a thought to avenging his stricken fellow conspirator, he devoted all his energies to the task to which he had been assigned, killing the young Texian.

  When Dodd had refused to let the third man draw his pistol, he had insisted that he should be allowed to tackle the least dangerous member of the trio. Agreeing, Dodd had ordered that the girl must be taken alive. She would make a useful hostage and, even if her grandfather was dead, the Texians might turn over the consignment as the price for her liberation.

  With that in mind, the renegade had decided how he would capture Di. Six foot tall and muscular, he had size, weight, strength and the element of surprise in his favor. So he meant to step up and enfold her in his arms from behind. Wanting to avoid a premature attack, he had allowed his companions to draw slightly ahead. Doing so had allowed

  him to watch for a signal from them and had also enabled him to keep the girl under observation.

  Seeing the other two's pistols beginning to move forward, the man knew that the moment for action had come. So he lunged in the apparently unsuspecting girl's direction and his big hands reached out to grab her. He was already in motion before he realized that things were not going exactly as he had anticipated.

  Despite having hoped for such a result, Ole Devil was surprised by the way in which the little Oriental was handling the situation. The left-handed draw was a trick that he had never seen before. Not that he gave the matter any thought. There was something of far greater importance demanding his complete attention.

  In the interests of preventing the renegades from realizing that he had recognized them for what they were, Ole Devil had allowed his right hand to dangle at his side. It flashed on to the Browning rifle's stock as he swiveled from the hips to his left. Although the hand took hold and its forefinger entered the trigger guard, he made no attempt to lift the weapon from the crook of his left elbow. With the man's pistol swinging in his direction, he knew there would not be time for him to do so.

  Unlike Ole Devil and Tommy, Di had not noticed the renegades. Instead, she had been watching the customers ahead and to her right. As these had not been able to see the pistols in the renegades' hands, they were doing nothing to alert her of the danger. Hearing Tommy's spiritual cry, which she identified for what it was, caused her to lift her head. It was her intention to look around and find what, or whom, the little Oriental was attacking. Instead, as her gaze reached the reflection in the bar's mirror, she discovered that there was a big man approaching, clearly intending to catch hold of her.

  The sight came as one hell of a shock to the girl!

  no J. T. EDSON

  The Texian realized that the Httle Oriental had his part in the affair under control, which did not come as any surprise. However, he was equally aware that the danger was still far from ended. Nor, much as he would have liked, could he devote any attention to how the girl was faring. The renegade to his rear had to be stopped—and fast!

  Swiveling to the left at the hips, Ole Devil pointed the Browning by instinctive alignment. At such close range, he felt that it would be sufficiently accurate for his needs and, of infinitely greater importance under the circumstances, faster than any other method. With the barrel directed in what he believed to be the required area, his forefinger squeezed the trigger. If he missed, there would not be time for him to carry out the simple manipulation of his rifle's mechanism which would allow him to fire again.

  With the blade of his tachi sinking into its recipient's flesh like a hot knife passing through butter. Tommy flashed a glance to discover how his companions—the girl in particular —^were faring. He realized that, due to the attacks having been launched almost simultaneously, she would have to fend for herself until either he or Ole Devil was able to go to her aid. Twisting and starting to step to the right so as to avoid the stricken renegade and draw free his weapon, he watched the third man rushing toward Di and realized that she had not equaled his speed in becoming aware of the danger.

  Even as Tommy came to his disturbing conclusion, Di looked up. Conditioned by her way of life to react swiftly and sensibly in the face of danger, she displayed remarkable presence of mind. Accepting that there would not be time to turn and defend herself with the rifle, she made no attempt to do so. Nor did she try to avoid her assailant by leaping forward or aside. With his hands almost upon her, she dropped into a crouching posture with her right knee on the floor.

  Much to his mortification, the burly renegade found that his objective was disappearing from his range of vision just as he was confident that he had her at his mercy. Carried onward by his momentum, he tripped over her and, turning a half somersault, alighted supine and with a bone-jolting impact.

  Up flicked the hammer of Ole Devil's rifle, setting off the chain reaction which it was designed to create. There was a crack and flame gushed from the muzzle, followed by a swirling mass of white powder smoke. Before the renegade's pistol could point at the Texian, a conical .45-caliber bullet slammed into the center of his chest. There was an audible crack as it broke the breast bone and passed through to reach the vital organs of the torso. Slipping from its owner's hand, the pistol
landed on the floor and fired, but its ball flew harmlessly to hit one of the barrels which were supporting the counter.

  Although the man's collision with Di had not been gentle, she had braced herself in anticipation of it. So, despite having her hat knocked off, she was able to retain her equilibrium. Straightening up almost as soon as her assailant struck the floor, she threw a quick look which assured her that there was no cause for alarm so far as her companions were concerned. Smoke was still curling out of the barrel of Ole Devil's Browning and his right thumb was operating the lever on the side of the frame so as to cause the next chamber of the magazine to move into alignment with the bore. Twirling around, the man he had shot was going down. Beyond them, Tommy had withdrawn his tachi and, clutching at the wound, the stricken renegade was collapsing to his knees with his face showing horror and agony.

  Startled expressions were bursting from all sides. Chairs rasped, or were thrown over, as their occupants began to rise hurriedly. Every nonparticipating person in the barroom

  stared at the group which was the center of attraction. The fact that one of the involved parties had proved to be a good-looking girl, who showed herself to be as capable as either of her companions, gave added spice to the drama.

  Cole Turtle had been an interested onlooker from his place at the big stake poker game over which he was presiding. While he had noticed that one of the men who was following the newcomers carried a concealed pistol, he had not offered to intervene. He was puzzled by how the trio, none of whom he had been able to identify, managed to pass Charlie Slow-Down with two of their number carrying rifles. However, he had felt that it was not his place to intrude upon what was clearly a private matter. His curiosity could be satisfied after the affair had run its course.

  "Well I'm damned!" Turtle spat out, his eyes focusing on the girl.

  Before the hotelkeeper could say or do anything more, there was an interruption.

  When Dodd had sent his companions to deal with Ole Devil's party, using the valid excuse that he might be remembered from the previous day's fighting, whereas they had not arrived until long after it was over, he had promised to support them from outside if necessary. Leaving the building, he had done no more than glance at and dismiss as of no importance the motionless and, apparently, fast asleep Kaddo Indian. Instead, he had drawn and cocked his pistol. Then he waited to see if he would be required to take a hand.

  Watching what was happening, the renegade felt no remorse over his companions' failure and fate. His whole attention was being devoted to considerating what would be the most advisable line of action, concluding that discretion was of far greater value than valor under the circumstances. According to Madeline de Moreau, Ole Devil Hardin's rifle could be fired a number of times without needing to be

  recharged in the normal manner. Even if she had misunderstood its quahties, or was exaggerating for some reason, the girl held what was almost certain to be a loaded rifle. So, to Dodd's way of thinking, the most sensible thing to do was withdraw.

  On the point of departing, Dodd saw an objection to doing so until he had taken care of another matter. While two of his companions were either dead or close to it, the third had survived. He had toppled over the girl's back when she had ducked to avoid his hands, but was already trying to sit up and did not appear to be too seriously injured.

  For a moment, Dodd thought that the problem would be solved without the need for any action on his part. Seeing the man was still capable of movement, the girl took the rifle from across her left arm. Grasping it in both hands, she raised it ready to drive its butt against his head. Such an attack could easily prove fatal, particularly when it was being delivered in the heat of anger by somebody as quick tempered as Di Brindley.

  Unfortunately for Dodd, Ole Devil was equally aware of the possibility.

  "Hold it, Di!" the Texian snapped. "I want him alive and talking!"

  Hearing his employer's words. Tommy Okasi transferred the tachi to his right hand and bounded forward. He angled the blade so that its point, coated with the blood of the man he had stabbed, was in an ideal position to be driven into the renegade's chest.

  "D—Don't!" the man yelped, staring at the tachi with horror and making no further attempt to rise. "I—I quit!"

  Although the renegade did not know it, he was in far greater danger from the girl whom he had tried to attack than the grim-faced "Chinaman" as he assumed Tommy to

  be. There were veiy few people who could have prevented her from smashing the butt of the rifle on his head by speaking. However, such was the respect in which she now held Ole Devil that she was willing to yield to his demand.

  "Aw shucks. Devil!" Di protested, lowering the weapon. "You don't let a gal have any fun at a—"

  A commotion just outside the building brought the girl's words to an end.

  Realizing that the Mephistophelian-featured Texian intended to take a living and, given suitable inducements, information supplying prisoner, Dodd knew what must be done. So he lifted his pistol to shoulder level and with both hands. He was about to take aim into the room when there was a movement to his left. Glancing in that direction, he received a shock.

  Either the man who was squatting by the entrance had woken up, or—^which seemed more likely—he had not been asleep!

  A savage face showed from below the brim of the som-hrerOy but that was not the main cause of alarm for Dodd. Looking as large as a cannon under the circumstances, the bell mouth of a blunderbuss was pointing in his direction from beneath the serape.

  Even as the renegade was taking in the sight, there was a puff of white smoke from the priming pan of the Indian's weapon. Then, with a thunderous roar, it vomited a spray of buckshot balls which encompassed him and ripped his torso into gory doll rags. Thrust sideways by their impact, he twirled and measured his length facedown on the sidewalk.

  As always, Charlie Slow-Down had done his duty. Noticing Dodd's furtive behavior on leaving the building, he had been alert for the possibility of trouble. On hearing the crack of Ole Devil's rifle, he had drawn the correct conclusion as to

  who was involved. He also remembered that the newcomers had given the name of one of his employer's friends. So he had prevented the renegade from taking any part in the affair.

  HOW MANY OF YOU WANT TO DIE?

  Despite the urgency of dealing with his assailant, Ole Devil Hardin had not forgotten that Dodd was somewhere outside the San Phillipe Hotel. Even as the man he had shot was going down, he had seen the renegade standing on the sidewalk. However, before he could take any more positive action than completing his turn instead of remaining swiveled at the hips, Charlie Slow-Down's blunderbuss had removed any need for him to do so.

  Satisfied that Dodd no longer posed a problem, the Texian swung his gaze around the barroom. The majority of the customers were on their feet and, although as yet none of them were making out-and-out threatening gestures, most were reaching for weapons. So he could not be sure of what their sentiments might be over the interruption to their pleasure.

  Alert for the possibility that there were other renegades, or people in sympathy with them, present, Ole Devil kept his Browning Slide Repeating rifle in a position of readiness. He did not worry about the surviving member of the quartet who had tried to attack his party, being confident that Tommy

  Okasi could keep the man under control. Knowing the kind of customer Cole Turtle's establishment attracted, he wished they had not discovered that Diamond-Hitch Brindley was a girl.

  For her part, although just as appreciative of the situation, Di was much less perturbed than the Texian. In fact, she believed that the loss of her hat and exposure of her features had reduced rather than added to the danger. Provided, of course, that Turtle recognized her.

  "Why howdy there, Di," the hotelkeeper boomed, his voice that of a well-educated Southron, rising with considerable alacrity despite his bulk. "It's good to see you again. Is your grandfather with you?"

  Carrying around the room.
Turtle's words were as much an announcement as a greeting, Ole Devil decided as he watched the effect they were having. They were stating that he not only knew the girl, but was showing his support for her and her companions. Taking notice, the customers realized that it would be unwise—to say the least—to become involved. Not that any of them had cause to do so. As far as they were concerned, the affair had been between two parties of strangers and was none of their concern.

  "Sorry about causing the fuss. Cole, although it wasn't our fault's it happened," the girl replied, returning the rifle to the crook of her left elbow after setting its hammer at half cock. As Ole Devil duplicated the actions and Tommy wiped the blade of his tachi on his victim's shirt, she went on, "You saw the way it was, they didn't leave us any other choice."

  "They didn't," Turtle conceded, sitting down again. "Are there likely to be any more of them looking for you?"

  "Couldn't rightly say offhand," Di admitted and made a contemptuous gesture with her right thumb at the seated and frightened-looking renegade. "Maybe this yahoo'd like to tell us. What do you reckon, Devil?"

  "I reckon he might feel obliging," the Texian replied, wishing that the girl had been more careful in the selection of her words. However, although the crowd were listening, nobody appeared to have noticed the clue to his identity which she had given. Scowling at the man, his voice hardened as he continued, "On your feet and shed your weapons, hombre. Prontor

  Aided by a threatening gesture from Tommy's tachi, which looked no less deadly despite having had the blood cleaned from its blade, the order was obeyed with promptitude. Hurriedly scrambling up, the man discarded his pistol and knife in a manner which left no doubt that he did not intend to use either as a means of resisting his captors. Returning the sword almost as swiftly as it had been drawn, the little Oriental gathered up the weapons.