He turned to the oldster. ‘Does the name mean anythin’ to you?’ Bannock’s brows puckered. ‘Nope,’ he said after a few moments thought, ‘can’t say the name rings any bells.’
‘Don’t necessarily mean anythin’,’ Comfort replied. ‘He could be usin’ a different name.’
‘Why would he do that?’ Bannock said.
‘I don’t know. Just a supposition,’ Comfort replied. ‘I’m considerin’ any possibility.’
Silence descended as each man dwelt on his own thoughts. The fire had died down and the circle of darkness outside the firelight seemed to grow blacker. The ripple of the stream sounded further away and from a long distance there came the lonesome cry of a nightjar.
‘Well,’ Comfort said, ‘I don’t know about you but I’m gettin’ a mite tired. Reckon I’ll turn in for the night.’
‘Sure, you do that,’ the oldster replied. ‘I’ll just sit here and kinda keep watch for a while.’
‘You figure that’s necessary?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Make sure you wake me up later and get some sleep yourself,’ Comfort replied.
He moved his gear a little distance from the fire and lay down. In a matter of minutes he was asleep.
Bannock pulled his knees up and watched the fire as it gradually dwindled. He was feeling strange and didn’t know what interpretation to put on it. He concluded that in the main it was because for the first time in a long while he had acted decisively. For too long he had been playing the part of town bum, content to let Wilder and his gang of gunslicks treat him with amused contempt. In that instant when he had drawn his six-gun in defence of Will Comfort, he had changed that situation irretrievably. He felt good about it, although he didn’t know now to what it might lead. And who was this man Comfort? He had appeared from nowhere and he knew nothing about him. From what Comfort had said, he gathered that he had spent at least part of the previous seven years since the War in jail. That had to be one reason for the lapse of time between him being liberated from the internment camp and getting on the trail of this hombre Laidler. What crime had he committed? He didn’t feel apprehensive. There was something about Comfort that engendered trust. And it had been something to see the way he had handled Wilder’s gunnies in the Crystal Arcade. He found himself suddenly thinking of Miss Annie. It was just as well that her girls had missed the altercation, although he had a sneaking feeling that Miss Annie might have felt differently, might indeed have felt something like he did.
He got to his feet, intending, like Comfort, to turn in for the night, when he stopped in his tracks. He had heard a sound like the snapping of a twig. His first instinct was to warn Comfort, but on second thoughts he slipped into the shelter of the surrounding trees, drawing his six-gun as he did so. He listened intently but it was not repeated and he was beginning to think he must be mistaken when he heard something else, this time the unmistakable sound of a shoe scuffing the ground. The horses began to stamp and one of them snorted. Whoever was approaching the camp wasn’t making a very good job of keeping undetected. A minute passed. He glanced across the clearing towards the supine figure of Comfort, half-expecting him to awaken but he showed no sign of stirring. In another moment the bushes to his right rustled and parted and someone crept out into the faint glow of the fading embers. Bannock was about to step out of cover when Comfort suddenly sat up and Bannock caught a gleam of light from the gun he held in his hand.
‘OK, stop right there!’ Comfort snapped.
Bannock, taking his cue, moved forward into the open.
‘Better do exactly as he says,’ he said to the intruder.
The shadowy figure stopped dead in its tracks.
‘Don’t shoot,’ a voice said. ‘I come as a friend.’
Bannock wondered whether Comfort was as surprised as he was. The voice was that of a woman.
‘Put your hands in the air!’ Comfort ordered.
The woman did as requested. Comfort took a couple of steps towards her, then stopped. Bannock was expecting him to do or say something but for a few moments he just stood as if transfixed to the spot.
‘Annie,’ he said at last. ‘Annie O’Reilly! Is it really you?’
The woman’s back was towards Bannock but now he recognized her too as Miss Annie from the Crystal Arcade.
‘Yes, it’s me. And I knew I couldn’t be mistaken. I knowed it was you, Will Comfort, as soon as I saw you come ridin’ into town.’
‘The woman on the balcony,’ Comfort said. ‘It was you!’
The next moment Comfort had taken a last step forward and Miss Annie was in his arms. They held each other for just a moment, then, as they moved apart, Bannock, feeling just a little foolish, walked towards them. The group stood together, illuminated in the dwindling glow of the fire, and none of them seemed sure of what to say next. It was Bannock who took the practical approach.
‘Miss Annie, what are you doin’ here? You were takin’ a chance coming into camp like that.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she replied. ‘I wasn’t sure what to do once I got near. I left my horse and walked the last part. I wasn’t even entirely certain it was you.’
‘You two know each other?’ Comfort said.
‘Sure. Miss Annie is part owner of the Crystal Arcade. She and her girls . . .’
He hesitated and Miss Annie completed the sentence for him.
‘Provide the entertainment,’ she added.
Bannock looked from Miss Annie to Comfort.
‘I take it you are acquainted as well?’ he said.
Comfort put his arm round Miss Annie’s shoulder and squeezed her again.
‘Yup, we sure are. We used to know each other well. Remember how I was tellin’ you about the time I had a real bad bout of fever. I said I couldn’t have got through it without a lot of help. Well, it was Miss Annie pulled me back from the brink and nursed me back to health again.’
‘It was a bad time,’ Miss Annie said. ‘It wasn’t long after the war and you were still sufferin’ its effects.’
‘That was a bad time for everybody,’ Bannock interjected.
‘So how did you wind up in a place like Cayuse Landing?’ Comfort said to Miss Annie.
‘It’s a long story,’ she said.
‘More to the point,’ Bannock said, repeating himself. ‘What are you doin’ here now?’
Miss Annie looked into Comfort’s weathered features.
‘I saw him ride into town. Shortly after I heard the shooting. I watched as the pair of you ran out of the saloon and took off for the hills. Figured you might need some provisions. So I packed a few things and here I am.’
‘Where did you leave your horse?’ Bannock said.
‘Back aways, tied to some trees just off the trail.’
Bannock turned to Comfort. ‘You and Miss Annie make yourselves comfortable. I’ll go and bring in the horse.’ The oldster’s face broke into a grin, exposing his prominent teeth as he turned to Miss Annie. ‘You sure are some lady,’ he said.
By the time they had settled down for the night, dawn was not far away. When it came they made a good breakfast from the supplies Miss Annie had brought. While they were drinking coffee Miss Annie looked at them in turn.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘it’s sure been good to catch up on things, but just what are you boys intending to do next?’
‘To some extent, that depends on you,’ Comfort replied.
For a moment Bannock thought he detected a glimmer in Miss Annie’s eyes.
‘How do you mean?’ she said.
‘Well, I told you and Bannock somethin’ about the reason I happen to be in Cayuse Landing. I’m lookin’ for a fella name of Briggs, Lonnie Briggs. Are you quite sure you haven’t heard the name? I got word he was in the area.’
‘Nope, don’t mean nothin’ to me,’ Bannock reiterated.
Miss Annie looked thoughtful.
‘I don’t know the name,’ she said, ‘but I been thinkin’. What does this fella look li
ke?’
‘It’s a long time since I seen him. By the time we were set free he was in a bad way. He was pretty average, I’d say.’
‘Was there anythin’ distinctive about him?’
Comfort suddenly grinned.
‘Yeah, come to think of it, there was somethin’. He’d taken a hit at Gaines’ Mill. He had a scar. It was in kind of a funny place. He didn’t like anyone to mention it in case it looked like he’d had his back to the enemy.’
Miss Annie nodded. ‘No need to be coy,’ she said. ‘That scar was on his backside, wasn’t it?’
A crease had appeared in Comfort’s brow.
‘Yeah, it was,’ he said. ‘But how would you know about it?’
Miss Annie smiled briefly. ‘Let’s say one of the girls mentioned it to me,’ she said.
‘So Briggs has been in Cayuse Landing. When was this?’
‘Just hold steady. It might not be the same man. This is all kinda flimsy.’
‘Can’t be too many hombres with a scarred up butt,’ Bannock mumbled.
‘It was about a week ago. I’m tryin’ to remember.’
‘Did this girl say anythin’ else?’ Comfort said.
‘No. Only that he treated her nicely and wasn’t shy of splashin’ some money. She was a little disappointed he didn’t come back. Guess he must have been passin’ through.’
‘Where did you get the information that he was in Cayuse Landing?’ Bannock said. ‘Seems a mite strange if he was only passin’ through.’
‘Someone I met in St Louis. He’d known Briggs before the War. Said the last he’d heard of him he was workin’ on the river near Cayuse Landing.’
‘Could be on the steamboats,’ Bannock said.
Comfort thought hard. ‘What’s the next town down river?’ he asked.
‘Willow,’ Miss Annie replied. ‘And Tidesville the other way.’
‘OK,’ Comfort said. ‘I figure this is what I’ll do. Ride down to Willow and get me a ticket from there to . . . what was it?’
‘Tidesville.’
‘OK, Tidesville. That should give me time to find out if Briggs is workin’ the boats. If he’s not, I might be able to pick up some information.’
‘You’d be comin’ back through Cayuse Crossin’,’ the oldster said. ‘Better be careful. Rank Wilder ain’t gonna be too happy about what happened to the Drewitt boys at the Crystal Arcade.’
Miss Annie turned to Comfort.
‘You’d better be careful anyway,’ she said. ‘Wilder controls most of the river traffic as well as the town and the Black Stirrup.’
‘This Wilder seems to figure a lot around here,’ Comfort said, ‘but my quarrel ain’t with him.’
‘Not unless he decides to make himself your problem,’ Bannock replied.
Comfort got to his feet. ‘What about you, Annie?’ he said.
‘I guess I’d better get on back to the Crystal Arcade,’ she replied. ‘I got my girls to take care of.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘You know where I’m to be found,’ she added.
Comfort nodded and turned to Bannock.
‘You fancy a river ride?’ he said.
‘I was hopin’ you’d say that,’ the oldster replied. ‘Sure do. Guess I ain’t got much choice anyways now that Wilder’s got my number.’
‘Sorry you had to get involved,’ Comfort said. ‘Guess it kinda makes things hot for you in Cayuse Landin’.’
‘No apologies needed,’ the oldster said. ‘I been owin’ Wilder a long time. Just wished I’d stood up to him before.’
They saddled up. Miss Annie was the first to ride out. She turned and waved, then disappeared from view round a bend.
‘Yup,’ Bannock drawled, ‘she’s quite a woman.’
Comfort climbed into leather.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Time we hit the trail to Willow.’
The oldster poured the last of the coffee on the ashes of the fire. He scuffed them with his boot heel.
‘OK,’ he replied. ‘Let’s ride.’
Chapter Two
The landing stage at Willow presented a bustling scene of movement and activity. Wagons and buggies were passing up and down and groups of people stood on the quay, either waiting to go aboard the approaching boat or seeing off other passengers. Crates and boxes of various shapes and sizes were lined up, waiting to be carried on deck, together with hogsheads, casks and cases. The river flowed brown and muddy, carrying upon it an occasional tree branch or log; looking down on it, Comfort took a last draw on his cigarette, then flicked the stub into the water. He looked upstream where the shoreline took a bend and saw a whiff of steam above the treetops. A whistle blew and then the prow of the boat appeared. The stern wheel turned, churning up the water and a swelling wave slapped against the side of the quay. There was a crush of people pressing forward to get a look at the approaching craft and Comfort found himself pushed against a young woman wearing a dark cape and a bonnet. She must have been standing behind him but he had not noticed her before.
‘Sorry, ma’am’, he said, raising his hat.
She smiled and he couldn’t help but notice the dimples which appeared in her cheeks.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she replied.
Their eyes held their glance a moment longer till the voice of Bannock interrupted them.
‘Sure seems to be a lot of folk travellin’ today,’ he said.
Comfort turned to him.
‘Yeah. More than I would have expected.’
The woman looked up at him again.
‘I think a lot of folks are heading for the county fair at Tidesville,’ she said. ‘That’s where we’re going.’
‘We?’ Comfort involuntarily replied.
‘Yes, me and my brother. He’s collecting our luggage.’
Just at that moment a young man appeared. He was slim and his blond hair was tousled. He seemed to be slightly agitated as he struggled with two big bags.
‘That’s a lot of luggage to be takin’ for a day out at the fair,’ Comfort said.
‘Oh, we’re not just going to the fair. Our uncle lives in Tidesville and we’re going to spend a few days with him.’
The boat was drawing towards the landing stage.
‘Well, I hope you’ll have a good time,’ Comfort said, and turning to the boy: ‘Here; let me give you a hand with those things.’
The boat had docked. The gangway swung out and Comfort took one of the cases. They passed on to the boat and after some moments of confusion, found a seat in the lounge.
‘Thanks for your help,’ the woman said.
‘It weren’t nothin’,’ Comfort replied.
He turned to go. The woman smiled again.
‘My name’s Corrina,’ she said. ‘Corrina Stead, and my brother’s name is Daniel.’
‘Comfort, Will Comfort. And this here is Mr Beaver Bannock.’
Corrina looked at the oldster with a slightly puzzled expression on her face. Bannock grinned.
‘Real nice to make your acquaintance,’ he said.
Comfort turned and made his way to the door. Outside, he leaned against the rail and watched the flurry of activity which was taking place on the quayside. People were waving as the last straggling passengers came on board. Among them was a man with a drooping black moustache and a stubbled chin. He looked up as he approached and Comfort had a vague feeling that he had seen him before. The man’s glance passed over him like a cold ray of steel and then he vanished among the people crowding the decks. The whistle blew and amid a churning of paddle wheels and a billowing of smoke, the steamer put out into the river.
Corrina Stead leaned over the side of the paddle steamer and gazed at the passing scene. All about her the boat was crowded with a motley array of passengers and freight. The decks were filled with wagons, horses, mules, boxes, barrels and tents and all manner of equipment. There was some jostling behind her and suddenly she became aware that she was no longer alone. A man had come up beside her. She glanced at him. He was u
nshaven and his hair was lank. He smelt of whiskey.
‘Now what’s a young lady like you doin’ all by yourself? Reckon you could do with some company.’
She became aware of his arm around her waist.
‘Leave me alone,’ she said.
‘Now that’s no way to behave,’ he slurred. ‘In fact, I’d call that downright unmannerly.’
‘Call it what you want,’ she said, ‘but take your arm away from me this instant.’
The man laughed and his hand moved up alongside her breast.
‘I know you don’t mean that,’ he said.
Corrina made to move away but he held her tight.
‘Now don’t go and spoil things,’ he said. ‘You and I could have a real good time. I can show you all the sights when we hit landfall.’
Corrina was trying to decide what to do. She could humour him, but it was not in her nature. On the other hand she didn’t want to let the matter go any further. The stranger looked mean. She had no desire to get her brother involved. She made to move away again but he had wedged her tight against the side of the boat.
‘I’ll ask once more,’ she said. ‘Go away and leave me alone.’
Again the man commenced a menacing laugh, but this it was broken into by a voice from behind them both.
‘You heard what the lady said.’
Corrina looked round to see Comfort. What she was most aware of was his piercing blue eyes which at that moment were fixed on her molester with an unwavering intensity. The man seemed momentarily nonplussed by this unexpected intervention, but then his mouth bent in an ugly snarl and his hand moved away from her towards a six-gun, which she now noticed for the first time hanging at his side.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ Comfort said.
For a second the man seemed to consider this advice, but then his hand moved towards the handle of his gun. Quick as he was, Comfort was quicker. Without a pause he raised his arm and brought his hand slicing down on the gunman’s wrist. The gun fell from his hand and before he could do anything else a swinging right fist caught him under the chin. His head snapped back, then he slid to the deck. Comfort bent, picked up the gun and threw it over the side of the vessel.
Guns of Wrath Page 2
