Bannerman the Enforcer 46

by Kirk Hamilton

  “Do it, please!” the girl said. “I’ll hate waiting, but it might be worth it. Meantime, I’ll check the territory myself.”

  The Rangers looked sharply at Yancey and he shrugged: that’s the way the girl was, he was telling them, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  “And if you get a negative reply?” Rawlins asked.

  Yancey looked steadily at Texas.

  “Then we’ll be at a dead-end, I guess.”

  “You might be,” she said grimly and looked around at all three of them challengingly.

  They said nothing. Clearly all three of them were unused to such iron stubbornness in a mere slip of a girl like Emily Svendborg.

  Chapter Nine – New Trail

  Cato had rooms in the Mansion House on top of Capitol Hill in Austin. He had refused to stay in the Infirmary and Doctor Boles, Governor Duke’s personal physician, would not allow him to go back to his rooms at the hotel downtown.

  So Cato compromised, and agreed to stay in the mansion so that Boles could check his progress regularly.

  When Andy Moss came into his rooms, he was glad to see him.

  Moss was the telegraph operator on the special station within the grounds of the Governor’s Mansion and all messages for the Enforcers came through here and were given top priority. Cato had a hunch Yancey might find himself in a position where he wanted help and would be forced to contact him.

  Likely Yancey would be expecting Cato to be at the Infirmary and there was no way he could contact him by telegraph there so he would have to resort to the Enforcer’s line into the Governor’s house. The message would, of course, eventually find its way to Dukes’ desk and then he would know where Yancey could be found and he would fire off messages recalling him.

  Cato knew Yancey wouldn’t reply if he wasn’t ready to return, but this would only make the Governor angrier.

  So Cato had taken the precaution of seeing the telegraph operator in the mansion—in this case, Andy Moss—and slipping him a twenty-dollar gold piece to place the duplicate or any messages received for Cato at the bottom of the pile that went across the Governor’s desk daily.

  Moss now held out the familiar dog-eared yellow form as he walked across the room towards where Cato sat, leg propped up, reading a dime novel about the adventures of a frontier scout. “From Yancey, John,” Moss said, handing over the message. Cato read swiftly.

  URGENT. NEED INFO. SOONEST REAL ESTATE TRANSACTION ANYWHERE TEXAS INVOLVING ‘COLEMAN’. USE EVERY FACILITY. WIRE RANGER STATION, COLEMAN, TEXAS.

  YANCEY.

  Cato looked up at the telegraph operator. “Thanks, Andy. Where’s the copy?”

  Moss smiled crookedly. “Seem to’ve mislaid it somewheres. Might turn up in a day or so.”

  Cato nodded slowly. “That’d be fine. A day or so.”

  “Figured it would be. You got some wires you want to send?”

  “Yeah. Help me out of this chair and across to the table,” Cato said. “I’ll write out what I want you to send. And bring all the replies to me. As they come in, savvy?”

  Andy Moss nodded, helping steady Cato while the Enforcer juggled his crutches under his arms.

  Fifteen minutes later, Moss left the room with a fistful of messages Cato wanted wired to various Land Agents throughout the State. They would receive top priority because of the official Governor’s coded designation prefixing each message.

  Replies should come in within a couple of hours, from the nearest agencies. The outlying ones would take longer, but they should all be back by tomorrow morning.

  But Andy Moss was worried: with all this telegraphic traffic, he knew it would be only a matter of time before something slipped past him and one of the other operators picked it up and passed it through the normal channels.

  Which meant it would land on the Governor’s desk today and he would immediately want to know what kind of authorization the operators were using to add his special prefix to the querying messages.

  And Dukes was a man who demanded answers to his questions, pronto.

  As far as Andy Moss was concerned, it was getting a little out of hand now ...

  It happened just after supper that night.

  Cato had eaten and was already back in his room when there was a heavy knock on the door and he frowned even as he called to ‘Come in!’

  The Governor entered, looking grimfaced, followed by Kate Dukes. In the background, just turning away down the passage towards the telegraph room, Cato caught a glimpse of the red-faced Andy Moss.

  The Enforcer kept his face blank as he hitched himself to a more comfortable position.

  “Don’t be hard on Andy, Governor. It was my fault.”

  Dukes glared. “He did what you asked, knowing it was a dereliction of duty.”

  “Aw, hell, it wasn’t all that important!” Cato said.

  “Important enough to try to keep it from us, Johnny!” Kate retorted.

  He sighed and nodded. “Well, I didn’t want you sendin’ re-call wires to Yancey. Sounded like he was onto somethin’. Seemed to me he ought to have a chance to follow it through.”

  “That’s how it seemed to you, did it, John?” Dukes asked grimly. “Well, let me tell you how it seems to me! It seems to me like my Enforcers figure they can do pretty much as they like all of a sudden! They can go off on self-imposed assignments, use official facilities without permission, and suit themselves when they come back and report for duty! That’s how it seems to me, John!”

  Cato looked uncomfortable. He knew the Governor had cause to sound off.

  “Yeah, well, all right, I admit I bent the rules a little. But that’s how Yance and me get results, Governor. You know that. This time, we just happened to bend rules that affect you, is all.”

  “On an assignment that has nothing to do with me!”

  “Yeah, sure, in a way, I guess.”

  “In a way?” echoed Kate blankly.

  “Yeah. The Army’s Federal. That means all law enforcement agencies can be called on to help out, have a duty to help out, and use their initiative. Which is what Yancey’s done in this case.”

  Dukes studied Cato’s face soberly for a long time. Then he surprised the small Enforcer by smiling crookedly.

  “You damn word-twister!” Dukes said, shaking his head. “You’re so damn loyal to Yancey I swear you’d stand up in front of a firing-squad in his place!”

  Cato smiled thinly. “Might be askin’ a mite too much, that!”

  “I’m not sure,” the Governor said. He turned to Kate who still looked angry, and puzzled, too, at her father’s sudden change. “Kate, I think we’ve been out-foxed.”

  “But Yancey—you said you need him on the Gulf Coast!” she protested.

  “I do. I’d prefer him to be there. He’s not available, so I guess I’ll have to find someone else. Cole Hibbard’s just in from a successful assignment. He’s got a lot going for him. Maybe I’ll send him down to the Gulf.”

  “And allow Yancey to traipse all over Texas or Lord knows where with—with this—woman who calls herself ‘Texas’?”

  Dukes took his daughter’s shoulders between his gnarled, rheumatic-twisted hands. He looked down steadily into her face.

  “If I did send a re-call wire to Yancey, d’you honestly think he’d come now? He knows there are others I can send to the Gulf. If he thought this woman helpless and needed him to back her, he’d go along with her. You know that, Kate. It’s the way he is. Yancey’s a crutch for anyone in trouble. He’ll go to hell and back to help anyone he figures is a victim. It’s one of his best qualities. We have to be honest and admit that, Kate.”

  She was silent for a long moment, looking finally at Cato. “This woman seems to have been through a—terrible experience, John,” she said quietly.

  “About the worst there is, Kate. I tell you, if Yancey hadn’t decided to help her, I’d’ve tried, busted leg and all. It kinda shook me up, seein’ a frail-lookin’ woman like that with so much coldness, s
o much raw hate burning her away to a husk ... Gospel, Kate, I’ve never seen anythin’ like it. It was—well, frightening is the only word I can think of. No man capable of even crawlin’ about, could refuse to help someone like that.”

  Kate lowered her eyes. “You make me feel ashamed, John, for feeling so—jealous.”

  Cato grinned at her. “Well, I reckon Yancey’d be worried if you didn’t feel jealous about him runnin’ all over Texas with another woman.”

  She smiled slowly, knowing he was trying to cheer her. “Well, in that case, I think we should swing into full gear, Dad, and give Yancey all the help we can. If you were to send back-up wires to those John’s already sent off …”

  Dukes nodded. “Of course. It would speed things up considerably.”

  “Thanks, Governor,” Cato said, feeling mightily relieved. He smiled again at Kate. “Sooner Yance gets the chore done, sooner he’ll be back again.”

  The girl answered his smile slowly and winked.

  By the time Yancey and the girl got back to Coleman from riding around the district, there were replies waiting at the Ranger Station from Cato.

  Yancey had decided to accompany Texas on her stubborn check of the area because he figured she might go off half-cocked if there was someone who remotely resembled Kane or Gentry. He should have known better.

  She was determined to get these men and she had sufficient sense and control to make sure she had the right party before going up against anyone.

  It had all been a waste of time anyway; three days of riding to no avail. As Ranger Sergeant Rawlins had said, no one resembling Kane or Gentry was in the district. Sure, there was the possibility they might be hiding up in the hills, but that could take a month of scouring and still bring up negative results.

  She was dejected on the ride back to Coleman after the final check and nothing Yancey could say would cheer her up. She couldn’t even be bothered practicing her drawing and shooting.

  Emily Svendborg was beginning to realize the immensity of the task she had undertaken.

  But her mood changed dramatically when Yancey read out the text of Cato’s wire.

  RANCH DEAL INVOLVING ‘COLEMAN’ VICINITY FORT WORTH AUG. 22. LAST. PRISONER SAME NAME RELEASED STATE PEN. END. JUNE. WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN. IF DETAILSWANTED, WIRE BY RETURN. NO OTHER ‘COLEMAN’ SHOWN TO DATE. YOU HAVE BLESSING OF GOVERNOR AND KATE. LUCK.

  CATO

  Yancey was glad of that last but he kept his face blank enough as he glanced up at the girl. He saw the eagerness in her eyes.

  “How can we get to Fort Worth?” she asked.

  “Stage to Brownwood or we can ride. Then there’s a train line in, but we might not link up with it. Could have a few days’ wait.”

  “No. If we miss catching the train, we’ll ride on,” Texas said. She hesitated and added, “That was a good idea of yours, to wire your friend.”

  “Don’t count too many chickens, yet,” Yancey warned. “It might not be the man we’re looking for. Could have nothing whatever to do with Kane or Gentry.”

  “It does,” she said firmly, confidently. “I know it does!”

  He looked at her closely. “Don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t work out.”

  “But it has to!” she insisted. “August twenty-second is only two and half weeks ago! The timing is right. Ringo definitely said ‘Coleman’. Bannerman, it has to be the right one!”

  Yancey nodded slowly. “Well, we’ll go check it out. But I’ll wire Cato and get him to send on details of this other Coleman, the one released from the State Pen. They’ll be waiting for us when we get to Fort Worth.”

  “Why waste the time?” she demanded. “He couldn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Why not? He’s a criminal. He might know Kane and Gentry and he’s been out nearly two months. He could be hiding them out.”

  She had to admit it was possible, but he could see that she was pinning most of her faith on the land deal at Fort Worth.

  He had no feeling one way or the other at the moment and it bothered him some, for usually he had some kind of a hunch gnawing at him, even if just faintly.

  But this time, there was nothing at all ...

  They made good time to Brownwood, riding their mounts in favor of taking the stage, hoping to link up with the Fort Worth train. But a few miles before they reached the railhead town, the girl’s mount threw a shoe and injured its leg when it fell on a steep, rocky slope.

  There was no choice then but for them to ride double, leading the limping animal.

  The delay caused them to miss the train and Emily Svendborg was beside herself with frustration.

  “Hire me another horse!” she said to Yancey. “We’ll ride after the train!”

  It wasn’t really such a bad idea, Yancey thought, after giving the matter a little thought. The train had left an hour ago but, outside of town, there was a winding climb over some hills and this would slow the train considerably. It was just possible they could make the ride and catch up with the train as it puffed and panted its way up the slopes. The depot man had already told them it was a nine-car freight with only one passenger car and the caboose behind the flatbeds. Freight trains were notorious for their slowness in the West.

  “I reckon we might manage it, Texas!” Yancey said. “Let’s get across to the livery.”

  The stableman was slow-thinking—or pretended to be—and he did a lot of scratching and considering when Yancey put the deal to him: take the lame mount in exchange for another horse and Yancey would make up the difference in cash. He wanted a horse that would find its way back here, leading Yancey’s own mount, and wanted the livery man to promise to look after both animals until Yancey contacted him again.

  It wasn’t a complicated deal, but the man made out it was. In the end Yancey paid more than he wanted to just so they could get going. His chestnut was tired from the run down from Brownwood, but he figured it could make the ride to the hills. The girl’s new mount was a dun with a crooked ear.

  They quit town fast and cut across country towards the hills and the column of dark smoke hanging in the sundown sky, marking the trail of the freight train moving into the hills.

  When they reached the foothills, the chestnut was beginning to slow down and Yancey wondered if it would be able to manage the climb as he stared upward. This part of the mountain was in shadow and he could see the sparks spewing from the smokestack of the train, hear the laboring of the locomotive, the slithering ring of the wheels against the rails. He and the girl exchanged a brief look and then set their mounts up the slope, she taking the lead.

  The chestnut dropped behind on the climb and Yancey looked up and figured Texas would make it to the train safely enough. But he was going to have to drive the chestnut hard to get within reach of the caboose steps.

  Fire writhed across the sky above the peaks, smudged with a drifting haze of black smoke. He saw the girl glance behind and he waved her on, fighting the faltering chestnut. She cut in on the train on a bend and he saw her set herself in the saddle, make a couple of false starts, then, judging it just right—by design or accident, he didn’t know—she leapt for the passenger car platform, grabbed the rails and was whipped out of her saddle. For a moment he thought she was falling, but she threw herself onto the platform, rolling, clutching her rifle. He hoped she had thrown her war bag on first: he hadn’t seen her do so.

  The train was gradually gaining on him and Yancey swore: the last thing he wanted at this stage was that loco girl hitting Fort Worth alone and going hell-for-leather after this ‘Coleman’ who might have nothing whatever to do with Kane or Gentry ...

  There was another chance. The train was already hauling over the first rise. If Yancey cut across the slope he could meet it on the first part of its descent. It would be moving faster then and would be more difficult to swing aboard, but there was no choice.

  The chestnut was happy enough to make the run across the slope towards instead of straight up and when it came t
o the down-grade over the rise, it whinnied, shied away from the train which was swaying close by. Yancey hadn’t realized the rails swung so sharply and was almost upon the train before he knew it. He yanked the animal aside so that it was running parallel to the swaying, clanking passenger car and reached behind to untie his war bag. He flung it onto the now dark platform, wondering why the girl hadn’t waited to lend a hand ... Then he slid the rifle out of the saddle scabbard, kicked his boots free of the stirrups, leaned out and grabbed at the rail.

  His arms felt as though they were being torn from their sockets and then his body banged against the side of the car, his legs dangling. His boots actually touched the cinders and he kicked off, swung them up onto the platform steps and threw himself bodily over the top onto the platform itself, skidding across to come up short against his war bag.

  He was breathless and his hat had been knocked over his eyes. He heard the door open and figured it was the girl.

  Then the rifle was wrenched from his grip and he pushed his hat back and looked straight into the yawning muzzle of a cocked six-gun held in the rock steady hands of a cold-eyed stranger, a big man in range clothes.

  “Freeze, Bannerman!” the man ordered and Yancey did just that, knowing why the girl had not been waiting on the platform to help him aboard.

  Chapter Ten – Last Gunfight

  Inside the car, there were only five Mexicans up at the far end and they studiously looked away from the two men with guns who menaced Yancey and Emily Svendborg near the rear platform door.

  The girl was pale, had been pushed down onto one of the seats in a corner. A lanky man with a face like a horse and close-set eyes, menaced her with his gun. The hammer wasn’t cocked back, but he held his thumb against the spur. He didn’t take his eyes off her to even glance at Yancey as the other man brought him inside.