by J. T. Edson
Even as the Kid squeezed off a shot, almost as if anticipating the need, the riders started to swerve their fast moving mounts towards a gap between two buildings. By doing so, one of them saved his life. Although the variation was not great, the bullet aimed to strike his head flew a little high and ripped the low crowned, wide brimmed Texas style hat from it.
However, the effort was not entirely wasted!
The forcible removal of the Stetson caused shoulder long black hair which had been concealed inside its crown to drop down!
Then, before the Kid could try again, the two men had gone from his view!
‘Did any of you good folks see who they were?’ Waco inquired, duplicating his amigo’s unspoken summation that it would be pointless to continue the chase on foot and returning the Colt to its holster after having set its hammer to a safe position.
‘I don’t know them,’ Bruce Millan answered, being one of the people who were coming forward. ‘But they were some of you Texans who come here rampag—!’
‘The hell they was!’ denied a leathery faced old timer, whose accent was Northern and reduced the possibility that he was trying to prevent such a stigma from attaching itself to Texans. His buckskin attire and battered black Burnside campaign hat suggested he was employed as a civilian scout for the United States’ Cavalry, or had been, so gave added credence to what he said next. ‘Look of their faces and the way they got on the Injun side of the hoss, which the rigs for sure warn’t Texan, I’d say they was half breeds with likely more’n half of it red blood.’
‘Hot damn!’ the youngster ejaculated, too engrossed by what he had heard to resent the attempt by Millan to lay the blame upon his fellow Texans. ‘We’ve got to get to the Railroad House muy pronto, Lon!’
‘How come?’ the Kid inquired.
‘Those two son-of-bitches wasn’t after us,’ Waco explained. ‘They’re more of them Metis and they hit who they was aiming for. The rest of the Railroad Commission could be next!’
Chapter Fifteen – You Haven’t Seen the Last of ’Em
‘So it’s your opinion that those Metis chaps are still trying to stop the negotiations,’ Sir John Uglow Ramage said. ‘Do you mind telling us why you think it?’
‘Way 1 see it, there's some sign’s points that way,’ Waco replied, looking a trifle embarrassed at finding himself the focus of attention for so many older and more worldly-wise men than himself. ‘First off, Lon and me thought’s how those jaspers were somebody we’d riled come after us and got the wrong fellers by mistake. But a few things, ’specially that hat 1 found, made me reckon’s how it wasn’t so.’
The tone in which the baronet had asked the question held no suggestion of doubt over what he and the other men in the room at the Railroad House Hotel had just been told. Rather it implied satisfaction for work well done and a desire to learn further details of why the conclusion he referred to had been reached. However, while he had a genuine interest, he also considered receiving the information might help improve what had been degenerating into a less than satisfactory meeting between the various parties investigating the possibility of building the spur-line from Mulrooney to join the intercontinental railway under construction in Canada.
Almost an hour had elapsed since the two shooting incidents, which had happened less than five minutes of one another had taken place!
However, while the intervening time had been well spent, the results were more negative than positive!
After having delayed their departure only long enough to collect armament offering a greater range of fire power than their basically defensive handguns, 62 ignoring the attempt to question them made by Counselor Peter Pitt while they were taking the appropriate weapons from the well supplied rack on the wall in the office, Captain Dustine Edward Marsden ‘Dusty’ Fog and Frank ‘Derry’ Derringer had left the jailhouse by the back door.
It had very soon become apparent to the small Texan and the gambler that they had not moved quickly enough!
First Dusty and Derringer had carried out a quick check which satisfied them that Albert ‘Pickles’ Barrel had been correct in his summation. Because of the window of the cell’s height above ground level, there was no other point in the vicinity which would have allowed whoever fired to aim and make such a hit as had killed the enormous bearded Metis. However, despite there being traces of very recent occupancy—including a spent cartridge case from a Winchester Model of 1866 rifle lying near the appropriate edge—the roof of the building immediately opposite the rear of the jailhouse was deserted by the time they had reached it. Nor had their attempts to find a witness to the affair, or even someone who had seen anybody hurrying away carrying a weapon capable of firing such a bullet, achieved any success. Whoever had carried out the murder, and the second person they felt sure was also involved, had disappeared without leaving any suggestion of where to continue searching.
Nor had the efforts of Mark Counter, the Ysabel Kid and Waco proved much more productive!
Going along the street, the youngster had retrieved the hat shot from the head of the fleeing rider. Discovering it was brand new, albeit only a cheap ‘woolsey’ such as any cowhand worthy of his salt would feel ashamed to own and was most unlikely to purchase when flush with wages received at the end of a successful trail drive, he had suggested it might supply a clue to the identity of the owner. Told by his companion to prove his point, he set off to make the rounds of the general stores in search of the one from which it had been obtained.
Just after the blond youngster had departed, having left the supervisor of the passenger depot to make arrangements for the bodies of Sir Michael Dinglepied and Shaun Ushermale to be taken to the undertaker’s, Mark had joined the Kid. Learning what had taken place, he had given his concurrence with the conclusion drawn by his two companions and suggested the black dressed Texan borrowed one of the horses tethered at a nearby hitching rail and went after the fleeing killers.
As soon as the Kid had set off, letting it be known he was acting in his capacity as first deputy and senior peace officer of the scene, the blond giant had set about dispelling the misconception created by Bruce Millan, who he suspected was motivated by a malicious desire to cause bad feelings towards everybody and everything to do with Texas. He was assisted in this by the continued assertions from the old timer that the fleeing men most certainly had not been Texans. Corroboration was supplied by comments from others sharing the conclusion that the pair were of mixed blood and did not use the low horned, double girthed saddles practically de rigueur for cowhands hailing from the Lone Star State. However, nobody could suggest who the killers might be. Therefore, having faith in Waco’s judgment, he had gone to the Railroad House Hotel to act as guard for the surviving members of the British Railroad Commission and their associates.
The youngster’s quest had been somewhat more productive in that the owner of the establishment responsible said the hat was part of several items sold to a pair of men in town dweller’s style clothing the previous day. They had been described as ‘about average in height and build’ and having just ‘ordinary’ faces apart from being suggestive of mixed blood. However, although their hair had been concealed beneath derby hats, the color of their eyebrows and one’s moustache had indicated it was almost certainly black. An additional piece of information was that, despite having insisted upon the headgear being of the fashion favored by Texans, the accents of the purchasers had sounded ‘sort of funny and foreign’, being closer to that of the French Creoles with whom the owner had been acquainted in Louisiana than Anglo- Saxon denizens of the Lone Star State. Nevertheless, having been helpful up to that point, the proprietor had been unable to say any more except that the pair had been headed west in a buggy when last seen.
Despite having asked questions of various people he came across, the Kid had been unable to obtain more than general directions to guide his search. He had discovered the point at which the fleeing killers had taken their departure, but they were nowhere to be s
een when he arrived at the edge of the town. The trail they were travelling along was too well used for even a tracker of his superlative ability to be able to pick out the signs left by their horses as an aid to discovering where they turned off—if they had done so within a reasonable distance—and then continue following until he could catch them up. Conceding he would be wasting his time if he should go further and might also be playing into the hands of other conspirators intent on carrying out more assassinations, he had adopted the example set by Mark without knowing it had been made.
Leaving Derringer to continue what they both considered might prove an unproductive attempt to locate the murderer of the bearded Metis, Dusty having matched the summation of the blond youngster regarding the possible reason for the killing, had also gone to deliver a warning and offer protection to Ramage’s party. He had arrived as Mark was approaching and, having exchanged news, they had gone to see the men for whose safety they were now concerned.
The arrival of the two Texans had come at an auspicious moment as far as the baronet was concerned!
Ramage had taken advantage of the information brought by Dusty and Mark to gain a pause which he hoped would ease what he considered to be a deteriorating situation!
The ploy had succeeded and the baronet was desirous of making as extensive as possible the delay which was allowing tempers to cool down. Having heard what the small Texan and the blond giant had to say, he had suggested all further negotiations were postponed until after the results of the investigations being carried out by the Kid and Waco had been heard. The arrival of the other two Texans, who had reached the hotel at about the same time, had been so soon after he made the proposal that he was unable to fend off pointed hints to carry on with the interrupted talks. After the black dressed Texan and the blond youngster had delivered their reports, noticing even the most dissident of the men was showing signs of being as impressed as he was by the thoroughness and summations of the two Texans, he had asked his question.
‘So having got that far along,’ Waco continued, more delighted by the obvious approval of his three amigos—who were closer than brothers to him and whose opinions he valued more than practically everybody else in the world—than the interest displayed by the other men present. ‘When I got told about that jasper being made wolf bait down to the jailhouse, 1 reckoned’s how it was all done by some more of those Metis hombres on the rampage.’
‘That’s how I see it, too,’ Dusty declared and the other two Texans muttered concurrence.
‘And so do I,’ Ramage supported.
‘There’s one good thing about it,’ commented the man who had aroused Mark’s animosity during the earlier meeting in the Fair Lady Saloon by suggesting the use of torture. ‘With them having run out that way, we’ve seen the last of them.’
‘I wouldn’t say that, mister,’ Waco put in before any of his amigos could express the same point of view.
‘Why not?’ Ramage inquired, although the American businessman was clearly far from enamored at having his theory rejected by one so young and far below his social standing.
‘While those two were gunning down his sir-shi—Sir Michael and his boot-clean—secretary at the depot,’ Waco replied, making such last minute amendments as he felt were called for by the situation. ‘Another two of ’em killed that amigo of their’n as we was holding in the pokey.’
‘Why do you say there were two men involved?’ Ramage asked, wanting to continue the discussion as long as possible, although the point had already been cleared when Dusty told his version of the incident.
‘Somebody had to call for him to haul hisself up to the window and let the hombre with the rifle lay a bead on him,’ the youngster explained. ‘Which it’d have to be done in a bellow fit to wake the dead from the top of that roof’s he got shot from.’
‘No matter how many were involved,’ the dissident businessman injected, with the air of stating the obvious. ‘They did it to stop him talking.’
‘Why sure,’ Waco agreed, but proved he had thought out the matter far more than the man who made the suggestion. ‘Only, was they going to light a shuck after downing those two fellers at the depot, why’d they figure it was worth going to so much trouble and risk to put a blue window in one of their own?’
‘To stop him talking, as I just said,’ the dissident claimed, again with the attitude of considering he had covered the entire issue beyond any need for further clarification.
‘What Dusty told me about it,’ the youngster admitted, his manner becoming less embarrassed and colder in the face of being treated in such a fashion. ‘They sure as shit comes down the back way did just that.’
‘Earthily put, but accurate,’ the baronet said, eyeing the dissident in a less than amiable fashion. ‘And there’s more to it, isn’t there, young man?’
‘I’d say there has to be,’ Waco confirmed. ‘Way I see it, all they stopped him talking about was something’s wouldn’t matter any which ways to ’em happen all they was doing was lighting a shuck back to home.’
‘He could have told which way they’d be going “back to home”,’ Colonel George A. French pointed out, despite seeing what the explanation was leading up to. He felt sure the same conclusion had struck the dissident, so wanted to prevent it being uttered in a way likely to arouse the ire of the blond youngster still further. ‘Where “home” is and who they are, none of which they’d like known as they’re members of Chavellier’s gang and probably already being hunted by the authorities in Canada.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Waco conceded, but there was a subtle difference in the way he did so. It made clear he did not resent the line taken by the officer. ‘I’ll go along with you in reckoning’s how they’re already on the dodge in Canada. Way they’ve been handling things hereabouts, they for sure aren’t yearling stock new’ brought on to the trail. Which means, even after we was give’ their names, they likely don’t have no regular home’s they could be found in. Top of which, that big jasper couldn’t give but a general way they’d be headed, ’cepting it’s ’most certain to be towards Canada and they’d reckon we’d likely’ve figured that one out for ourselves.’
‘He could say what they’re going to do when they get back to Canada,’ the dissident offered and, once again, his demeanor implied he was saying something overlooked by everybody else.
‘From the way he behaved when we were attacked, I wouldn’t say he’s intelligent enough to have been let into many of their secrets,’ French assessed. ‘Nobody with good sense would have tried to tackle an enemy with a knife from the distance he did when he had a gun on him.’
‘He could’ve known something, though, Colonel,’ Waco contradicted, but politely and with a timbre of respect in his voice which had been noticeably absent when he was addressing the dissident. ‘And it was said something’s got him gunned down.’
‘What would that be?’ Lord James Roxton inquired, making his first active participation in the debate he had been following with great interest. ‘From what I’ve been told, he wasn’t showing any signs of betraying them.’
‘That was for true, so far’s we knew,’ Waco conceded. ‘Only they maybe reckoned as how he could change his mind after being kept cooped up in the pokey for a spell.’
‘Which Frank Derringer reckoned we could talk him ’round to doing,’ Dusty supplemented. ‘Seems he was trying to bust his way out, not get at us for putting him there.’
‘And, what they’re figuring on doing next hereabouts, they didn’t dare take the chance of him talking about it,’ the blond youngster asserted. ‘Because, gents, unless I’m sore’ wrong, you haven’t seen the last of ’em yet.’
‘You mean they’re going to try to stop the railway being built?’ Ramage suggested.
‘That could come later,’ Waco replied and subsequent events were to prove him as accurate a prophet as he had been when suggesting the possible future for Joel Collins and Sam Bass. ‘Right now, I’ll be willing to bet’s how they’re hiding up s
omewhere and figuring to keep on trying to make wolf bait of at least enough of you gents to get the others to say the spur-line won’t be built into Canada.’
‘I’ll go along with Waco on everything he’s said,’ Dusty announced, coming to his feet and gesturing with his right hand towards his three amigos. Such was the strength of his personality, it created an impression—much the same as the one formed by Russell ‘Blink’ Profitt at Hampton’s Livery Stable—that he was the largest man in the room. ‘Which being the case, gentlemen, we’re going to stop them in their tracks!’
‘What can we do to help?’ Ramage asked, deducing he and his associates were not included in the designation.
‘Stay put in the hotel,’ the small Texan replied, his tone definite. ‘I’ve got some good friends deputized, along with the house detective and Walter Braithwaite, the boss desk clerk, to keep guard.’
‘How long do you expect us to stay here?’ the dissident inquired, showing he was not enamored of the restriction to his movements. ‘I’ve other business besides this needing to be attended to.’
‘You’ll be able to get on with it a whole heap better while you stay alive, Mr. King,’ Dusty pointed out. ‘Which, unless you do as I say, I can’t promise you’ll stay that way.’
‘What if I decide I don’t need your promise?’ the businessman challenged, having no liking for receiving what were orders undoubtedly made with his welfare in mind.
