Pudsey had been marginally the largest of the quartet, yet the man who was following him looked even more massive. In addition, he appeared to have changed his clothes while in the town. At least, there was now a Mexican sombrero on his head and he had not been wearing a serape when they set off.
Even as Madeline was noticing the fourth rider's change of attire, she became aware of how the horses of the men on either side of Pudsey were behaving. While his mount was walking normally, they seemed restless and reminded her of something. Just what it was struck her an instant later. They looked like a couple of racehorses being restrained, yet ready to hurtle forward when they received the signal to start a race.
Other thoughts crowded into the woman's mind. The rider on the left and slightly behind Pudsey was far smaller than any member of the band.
However, it was the man who was closest to Madeline's position who attracted the majority of her attention. Tall and slender, his right hand hung by his side and the left was also hidden from her view. However, he was sitting his horse with the straight-backed poise which reminded her of an officer in a first-class cavalry regiment riding in a parade.
Or of somebody whom Madeline had come to know—and hate!
With a sensation like an icy cold hand running along her spine, the woman realized what must have happened!
Possibly because Ole Devil Hardin had guessed how she had anticipated his reaction to the shooting of the bell-mare, he had selected a route which had avoided the ambush. In addition, he must have recognized and dealt with Dodd's
party in San Phillipe. Pudsey would not hesitate to betray the rest of the band if it would save his own skin.
Suddenly an even greater appreciation of the situation burst upon the woman. Her men were walking toward the riders completely oblivious of their peril. Taken unawares and attacked by three effective fighters, which she did not doubt the Texian's party would be, some of them were certain to be killed.
Apart from one consideration, Madeline would not have worried over what fate had in store for her companions, regarding it as being no more than their stupidity warranted. However, coming in their disgruntled frame of mind, such an event would be all the inducement they needed to flee. Even if she went with them, they would never trust her judgment again. In fact, especially as she could no longer count upon Dodd for protection, they were likely to turn on her and she was all too cognizant with what that would mean.
Once again, Madeline was finding her schemes thwarted and her life endangered by the man who had killed her husband!
All the woman's virulent temper erupted!
"It's Hardin!" Madeline shrieked, raising and, confident that she could hit her intended mark, sighting the pistol. Her finger began to tighten on the trigger and she went on, "Kill him!"
I'LL NEVER REST UNTIL HE'S DEAD!
Sitting his horse with the reins tied to the saddle horn, but restraining its eagerness to move—by holding the near side ribbon with his pistol-filled left hand—Tommy Okasi watched the renegades. They were emerging from their places of concealment in response to Pudsey's call and the clinking of the empty bottles supplied by Cole Turtle. None of them gave the slightest sign of suspecting that anything was wrong. Even their betrayer's understandably nervous tones had passed unnoticed. As far as the little Oriental could make out, they had left their rifles and were approaching with empty hands. For his part, he was holding his tachi — its blade blackened by smoke to avoid any glitter from the steel giving the game away—and the Manton pistol which he had borrowed from his employer. His unstrung bow was suspended in the loops on the left side skirt of his saddle, but he had left the quiver of arrows in Diamond-Hitch Brindley's care.
Studying the situation. Tommy was impressed—as he had been on other occasions—by Ole Devil Hardin's shrewd assessment of human nature. It had already been displayed
earlier that night, by the way in which he had turned the events at the San Phillipe Hotel to their advantage.
Despite Tommy's—and, the little Oriental suspected, Di's —original unspoken misgivings as to the wisdom of the Tex-ian's decision to tell the crowd that they were transporting items of considerable value, only good had accrued from it. Supporting his grim warning with a demonstration of his Browning Slide Repeating rifle's potential, by shattering nine bottles in a rapid succession, which would have been beyond the capability of any single shot firearm no matter how well handled, he had increased his audience's awareness that he was a man with whom it would be very dangerous to trifle. They had already seen him provoke a fight and cripple one of their number whom he had suspected might pose a threat to the goods in his care. Nor did they doubt that he had sufficient force at his command to back up his statement of intentions.
Always quick to grasp and willing to benefit from any situation. Cole Turtle had reached a decision which was—and would continue to be—of the greatest help to Ole Devil. He had announced that, with the consignment being of such importance to the future of Texas, he meant to do everything in his power to ensure its safe delivery and anybody from the town who attempted to interfere would incur his grave displeasure. All who had heard him knew exactly what he meant.
Having made his position clear, and supported by the ho-telkeeper, Ole Devil had turned his attention to the business which had brought them to San Phillipe, and also to removing the threat posed by Madeline de Moreau and her renegades. Once again, Turtle had shown his good faith. In addition to presenting Di with a mare from his stable, he had offered his assistance in dealing with the ambush.
Badly frightened by his predicament, the surviving rene-
gade had done more than tell his captors that his name was Pudsey. He had described the place where his companions were waiting. With the added inducement of being told that he could go free after the ambush had been broken provided that he got the hell out of Texas by the shortest and quickest route, he had agreed to lure the rest of the band from where they would be hiding.
Hearing what the young Texian intended to do, Turtle had warned that the woman and her party would be expecting four riders. Although Di had pointed out that she was on hand to make up the required number, Ole Devil had refused to let her participate. As he had pointed out, if things should go wrong, somebody had to deliver the mare and warn Mannen Blaze of what had happened. Once again, Turtle had supplied the answer. Not only had he promised to give the girl an escort to Santa Cristobal Bay in such an eventuality, but he had offered the services of Charlie Slow-Down to fill the remaining vacancy in the quartet. Di had reluctantly gone along with Ole Devil's wishes.
Satisfied that he had achieved his original purpose in visiting San Phillipe and, in spite of having failed to keep it a secret, having prevented the citizens from causing him trouble on account of it, Ole Devil wasted no time in leaving. Nor had Tommy blamed him for being disinclined to linger any longer than was necessary in such a location. There was considerable urgency in returning to the mule train with the replacement bell-mare. What was more, given time, some of the inhabitants' avaricious natures might override their fear of opposing Turtle's will. Regaining their courage, they might start contemplating means by which they could take possession of the consignment.
Once the mare had been handed over to Di and various other preparations had been completed, Ole Devil, Tommy and Charlie Slow-Down had set out with Pudsey. Escorted by
Turtle's fifteen-year-old son, Rameses—^who was, at a later date, to achieve even greater prominence than his father in the law-breaking circles of Texas*—and four trusted, well-armed men, the girl was following Ole Devil at a safe distance.
When Pudsey had told the Texian that they were drawing close to the curve where the ambush was to take place, the trio had made ready for action. In the Kaddo Indian's case, that had entailed no more than cocking the pair of blunderbuss handguns he was relying upon. Nor had Ole Devil and the little Oriental needed to do much more, but they had a somewhat different problem to contend with. Each was astride
a horse trained for cavalry duties. There was only one kind of situation in which such mounts would have their reins fastened to the saddle horn. Their reaction would be to dash forward without any guidance other than the rider's movements on the back, and knee pressure. However, this tendency must be restrained until the most advantageous moment if they were to benefit fully from the element of surprise. So, once the reins had been secured, Ole Devil and Tommy kept hold of one rein with the hand grasping the pistols. These were to augment the swords they were already carrying to ensure that the prisoner did not try to betray them. Although the spirited mounts were restless and eager to move faster, their riders were able to keep them under control, knowing that they would bound forward on being allowed to do so.
Too frightened to be treacherous, even though he was aware of what would happen to at least some of his former companions, Pudsey had carried out his instructions and the perturbed agitation in his voice had failed to warn them that all was far from well. As Ole Devil had hoped, the clinking of
* Some details of "Ram" Turtle's later career are given in SET TEXAS BACK ON HER FEET.
the bottles had drawn the waiting renegades from their places of concealment. What was more, as they walked along the trail, they were not so closely bunched together as to create an extra hazard to what he was planning to do. In fact, they could hardly have positioned themselves more suitably if he had explained what he wanted from them.
However, another problem which the Texian had envisaged had failed to materialize and he did not care for its omission. Sitting his impatient mount, with his right hand held so that his saber—suitably treated like Tommy's tachi — was concealed behind his leg, he studied the approaching figures. Although Madeline de Moreau must have been aware of the threat to the ambush, she had made no attempt to halt the exodus of the men from the bushes. Nor could he see her among them. He guessed that she was close by and must be furious at their undisciplined, rowdy behavior.
Measuring the distance separating them from the renegades. Tommy glanced at Ole Devil. Making just as careful an estimate, the Texian decided to hold off until they were a little closer. The nearer they were when they launched their attack, the greater effect it would have and the more damage it would inflict. Nor did he have any qualms over assaulting the men who were walking toward him under the misapprehension that they were approaching friends. In fact, his only regret was that he did not hold a firearm capable of discharging more than one shot, either in succession or as a volley. To have carried his Browning Slide Repeating rifle would have prevented him from using the saber and might have aroused the renegades' suspicions. Nor was there any handgun in production at that time which he felt would have filled his requirements if he had purchased it.*
* Although the Patent Arms Manufacturing Company was being established by Samuel Colt, with Elias B.D. Ogden (later Judge) as President, and Colt's cousin, Dudley Selden, as Secretary and General Manager, at Pater-
Although Ole Devil had seen a Collier Repeating Pistolt on his travels, the fact that it was a flintlock and had more than forty separate parts in the lock alone—not counting the lock-plate, attaching screws, stock and barrel-cylinder pin— in his opinion made it far too delicate and complicated to handle the work it was now called upon to perform.
Much the same considerations had caused Ole Devil to reject the various types of multi-barreled "pepperboxes" which were on sale. None of them, even those designed as caplocks—particularly as the latter possessed what he regarded as a lethal failing—had struck him as being sufficiently rugged and reliable to stand up to the rigors of conditions in Texas.
However, at that moment and under the prevailing circumstances, the Texian would even have settled for the loan of the Croodlom & Co. "Duck Foot" Mob Pistol—which would have allowed him to discharge four .45 caliber bullets simultaneously and not in the same direction—that Beauregard Rassendyll had brought as a personal sidearm. Such a
son, Passaic County, New Jersey, early in 1836 and would receive its charter on March 5th — and have it amended twice in 1839 — it would be another year before the first of the "Paterson" revolving cylinder rifles and pistols — the name of the latter becoming shortened to "revolver" — were available to the public.
f Invented in 1813 by Elisha H. Collier at Boston, Massachusetts. An early and comparatively successful attempt to create a firearm, utilizing a single barrel and a hand-operated cylinder rotating with the firing charges, which could fire several shots in succession. Lack of patronage and production facilities in the United States of America caused him to cross the Atlantic and manufacture his arms in England. In spite of Ole Devil's misgivings, a number of the weapons were purchased for use by the British Army in the Colonies. Although there is no evidence of the fact, it has been suggested by some authorities that — having seen examples while serving as a seaman on a ship which put in at Calcutta, India, then a part of the British Empire — Samuel Colt, q.v., used the Collier Repeating Pistol as the basis for the mechanism of his first "revolving cylinder" firearms.
weapon would have served his purpose better than his single-shot Manton pistol.
Ole Devil's yearning for a repeating—or multishot—firearm was not activated by bloodlust, but he refused to be influenced by the knowledge that some of the men before him were going to die without a chance to defend themselves. Not one of them would have hesitated to murder him if they were presented with an opportunity. In fact, some of them had already tried during the fighting at the cabin and they had been waiting in ambush with similar intentions. What was more, some of their number had shot her grandfather, Joe Galton, and the bell-mare while the rest were creating the diversion which had made it possible for them—in part, at least—to achieve their purpose. He knew that they had not even the excuse of patriotism to condone their actions. They were cold-blooded opportunists, traitors to their own kind who were serving a tyrannical dictator for what they could get out of it.
However, revenge was not Ole Devil's primary consideration. First and foremost in his thoughts was the fact that he was up against renegades who were a serious threat to the security of the Republic of Texas. So, he was prepared to be as ruthless as necessary while contending with whoever, or whatever, might be menacing it.
With the latter thought in mind, Ole Devil decided to hold off the attack for a couple or so more yards.
For all that, everything appeared to be going in his party's favor, with the renegades failing to grow alarmed when Ole Devil's party did not answer the shouted greetings. But Ole Devil was perturbed by the woman's absence and silence. Such behavior seemed most unlike her and he wondered where she might be.
Even as the thought came, it was answered in no uncertain manner!
At the first sound of Madeline's voice, which solved the mystery of her whereabouts to the Texian's satisfaction if not rehef, he knew that he could not delay the attack any longer. "Yeeagh!" Ole Devil roared before Madeline had finished speaking, releasing the rein from his left hand and jabbing his heels against his horse's flanks.
"Banzai!" Tommy bellowed at almost the same instant, having duplicated his employer's summation of the situation and giving his mount a similar indication of his wishes.
Unfortunately for Madeline and her companions, the warning she was shrieking—like her realization that the ambush was to be a failure—came just a little too late. Nor did she achieve her intentions by raising the alarm in such a manner. Startled exclamations began to burst from the renegades, but they were not to be granted an opportunity to recover their wits and act upon her advice.
Well trained and knowing what was expected of them, on receiving the awaited signals the two horses lunged forward willingly. The sudden change in the pace of the big dun gelding, to which the Texian had transferred before setting out from Santa Cristobal Bay, saved its master's life.
Lining her pistol, the woman had completed the pressure on its trigger and the hammer was beginning to fall when the horse obeyed its master'
s command. Even as the percussion cap was crushed and, in turn, ignited the main charge, she saw her target was passing from in front of the barrel. Nor was there anything she could do to correct the mishap. Being momentarily dazzled by the flames which gushed from the muzzle, she did not see the result of her shot. However, her efforts had not been entirely wasted. She might have missed her intended mark, but the bullet ended its flight in the chest of the man who had betrayed the ambush.
Even as Ole Devil felt the powerful thrust with which the bay responded to his instructions, the sound of the woman's
pistol reached his ears to be followed an instant later by the eerie "splat!" which told him that a bullet had passed very close behind him. It was succeeded by the unmistakable soggy thud of lead driving into human flesh.
A quick glance to his left satisfied the Texian that the little Oriental was not the woman's victim. He also felt sure that the same applied to Charlie Slow-Down. Judging from the angle the bullets had come, there was only one other alternative, but he did not bother to investigate it. Nothing he had seen of Pudsey caused him to have even the remotest interest in the renegade's well-being.
Not that Ole Devil had the time to ponder extensively upon the identity of whoever it was who had been shot. Almost as soon as he had turned his gaze to the front after checking that Tommy was not the victim, the dun was about to carry him between the foremost of his enemies.
Remembering the advice he had been given by the maitre des armes who had taught him to wield a saber, Ole Devil did not attempt to slash. Instead, he drove out his weapon with a thrusting motion. Its point entered the mouth of the man on the right, turning his yell of alarm into a strangled gurgle. A moment later, seeming to have responded of its own volition, the Manton pistol boomed awesomely and propelled its ball into the face of the left-hand renegade. The muzzle-blast illuminated Ole Devil's features and its fiery glow made them appear even more Mephistophelian than usual.
Ole Devil and the caplocks Page 14
