by J. T. Edson
‘Yes, marshal,’ Freddie confirmed, but did not supply the Kid’s name as – being aware of the duties to which he had been seconded from the Rifle Brigade – she realized he might not be employing it. ‘We’re friends of long standing. What happened?’
‘I still haven’t found out for sure,’ Beauregard confessed. Glancing at the knot of customers and employees in the saloon’s doorway, then to the other people who had been attracted by the commotion, he went on, ‘You-all might’s well get back to whatever you were doing, folks. It’s all over and there’ll be nothing more to be seen around here.’
It said much for the respect the Texas peace officer had built up since taking office that the onlookers obeyed immediately and without question. As they were dispersing, he suggested that all those involved accompanied him into the barroom so he could conduct an inquiry and decide upon what, if any, legal action was necessary. On entering, at the rear of the group, he glanced around. A short, stocky, white-haired and Gallic-featured corporal and three troopers were attending to the two recruits, neither of whom had as yet recovered consciousness. Leaving his companions, the non-com walked across to join the group at the counter.
‘The boys are wondering what happened, serge,’ the corporal stated and his long service in the U.S. Cavalry had not succeeded in removing his French accent.
‘Would you be after believing it if I was to tell you both of the spalpeens slipped on a piece of orange peel, Henri?’ Magoon inquired.
‘I’d believe anything you told me, it’s not wise to do anything else,’ the corporal replied, then he noticed the red head for the first time. ‘Bonjour, Calamity. What did they do to annoy you?’
‘There!’ the girl wailed, glaring at Freddie. ‘What did I goddamned tell you? I allus get the blame—’
‘That’s because you mostly deserve it,’ Killem interrupted. ‘How badly are those two hurt, Henri?’
‘Not as badly as they could have been,’ the corporal declared, duplicating Freddie’s belief that Calamity had not provoked whatever trouble brought them to their condition. ‘They’re not cut up and’re recovering.’
‘Whooee, that’s a relief!’ the red head gasped and told the small group about her all that had occurred outside, finishing, ‘I’m right sorry about your window, Freddie. But everything happened so fast after that yahoo pushed me so’s I didn’t have time to think about where the other one was standing when I rammed him. I’ll pay for it to–’
‘That you will not, darlin’!’ Magoon interrupted and the corporal nodded a vehement agreement. ‘It’s them two spalpeens’s’ll be making it good. Sure and they’ll be able to afford it, not having time to spend any money for a fair while to come.’
‘Naw, we’ll go halves on it,’ Calamity contradicted, showing another side of her nature. Hot-headed, reckless – though not to the point of imprudence – and quick to temper as she might be, she was too generous and kind hearted to let even two young men who had insulted and planned to do worse to her suffer so excessively. ‘And don’t you go picking on ’em when they get back to the Fort, Paddy Magoon.’
‘Settle for a third each and I’ll be kindness itself to the little darlin’s,’ the sergeant offered with what might have been considered an angelically forgiving smile.
‘A third it is,’ Calamity accepted and, knowing the burly Irishman, supplemented, ‘But that goes for you and the rest of the non-coms, Henri.’
‘You can trust me like you trust Paddy, Calamity,’ the corporal declared.
‘Yeah,’ the red head said dryly. ‘Which’s why I’m telling you. Anyways, I’m getting thirsty. Is it all right if I set up a round of drinks, Marshal?’
‘Go ahead,’ Beauregard offered. ‘Unless you want to prefer charges against the soldiers. Miss Woods?’
‘There’s no need for it, I feel they’ve been punished enough,’ Freddie replied. ‘So, as Calam obviously doesn’t, I think we can say it’s over and let her buy the drinks.’
‘Then over it is,’ the marshal declared, knowing he could rely upon Magoon to prevent the recruits from trying to take revenge.
‘I hope you and your friend will have time to come up and take a bite to eat with me, Pat,’ Freddie remarked, after the red head had bought a round of drinks. She had been studying Belle with considerable interest and had drawn conclusions which were more accurate than those arrived at by the clerk at the Railroad House Hotel. ‘We have a lot to talk about.’
‘But of course we will, Freddie,’ the Kid assented.
‘By the way, Pat,’ the mayor remarked, as she, Belle and the Englishman were making their way up the stairs leading to the first floor. ‘How is your Aunt Caroline keeping?’
‘Who?’ the Rebel Spy put in, before the Kid could reply.
‘Surely Pat’s mentioned her to you,’ Freddie asked. ‘The Dowager Duchess of Brockley.’
‘Oh, he has,’ Belle admitted. ‘Frequently. But I never really believed she existed until now.’
Chapter Five – I Don’t Fear Any Evil
‘Rather nice little place you’ve got here, old dear,’ Captain Patrick Reeder remarked, looking around approvingly as Freddie Woods followed Belle Boyd and him into the sitting room of her tastefully and comfortably luxurious living quarters.
‘It’s my home now,’ the lady mayor of Mulrooney, Kansas, replied with quiet pride. Then she turned her gaze to the Rebel Spy and went on, ‘Pat’s manners were always atrocious. He hasn’t bothered to introduce us.’
‘My name is Belle Boyd, Lady Winifred,’ the slender girl replied, deducing correctly that her pose of being a gambler’s mistress had not succeeded where the beautiful Englishwoman was concerned.
‘I’m pleased to meet you at last, Belle,’ Freddie declared, holding out her right hand. ‘Dusty has often spoken of you. Have you seen him recently?’
‘We were working together down on the Rio Grande a short while ago,’ the Rebel Spy answered, shaking hands and impressed by Freddie’s strong grip. She could hardly restrain a shudder as she remembered some of the weirder aspects of the latest assignment in which she had participated with the man mentioned by the mayor, but controlled her emotions and continued, ‘I hope you don’t think this is an imposition, although it is, but would you invite Calam and Mr. Killem to join us, please?’
‘Of course,’ Freddie declared, without a moment’s hesitation, realizing that a far more serious motive than a desire to renew an acquaintance with Calamity Jane lay behind the suggestion as she had noticed the Rebel Spy did not offer to do so in the barroom. ‘I’ll send word down and invite them. Do you want to speak with them in private?’
‘There’s no need for that,’ Belle stated, knowing that she could trust her hostess’s discretion.
‘How serious is whatever you’re working on?’ Freddie inquired, after she had given instructions for the message to be delivered.
‘Very serious, old thing,’ the Kid replied and Belle nodded her agreement. ‘But we may as well leave telling you until Miss Calamity and Mr. Killem get here.’
‘Have it your own way, you always did,’ Freddie assented with a smile. ‘Sit down, both of you. And, Pat, I wouldn’t call Calam Miss if I were you. She’s not so polite and formal as we British pride ourselves on being.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind, dear girl,’ the Kid promised, drawing out a chair for Belle at the table. Having seated Freddie and taken a chair himself, he went on, ‘I suppose you want to ask them about that chappie dear Vera, the good “Father" and le Loup-Garou have had come to meet them?’
‘That’s part of it,’ answered the Rebel Spy, to whom the question had been directed. ‘And, if we hear what I expect we will, I hope we can persuade Calam to help us.’
Instead of explaining what she had meant by the final comment, Belle sat chatting with Freddie until Calamity and Dobe Killem arrived. On the introductions being performed, she found that the red head had been discreet when telling the freighter about their previous meeting. 22 He had k
nown they were acquainted, but not that she was now a member of the U.S. Secret Service.
In spite of the assignment upon which Belle and the Kid were engaged being of great importance, neither mentioned it while the party were enjoying an excellent meal. After it was finished, over their coffee, they began to explain what had brought them to Mulrooney. Killem showed no surprise on being informed of their official status. Instead, he sat as if half asleep yet was taking in everything they said. Just as interested, Calamity was more demonstrative and let out explosive exclamations of surprise, or anger, at various points of the narrative.
Led by an English actress, Vera Gorr-Kauphin, and a man who had murdered and taken the identity of a priest, Father Matthew Devlin, 23 a group of international anarchists had been in Chicago with the intention of organizing an army of Irish Republican supporters for an invasion of Canada. Realizing that if this happened it would not only lead to friction between Great Britain and the United States, but might also cause the former country to bring a legal action along the lines of the ‘Alabama’ Arbitration Tribunal to the detriment of the latter’s finances, 24 Belle had been instructed by the head of the U.S. Secret Service, General Philo Handiman, to prevent it. With the help of the Kid – who had been requested by the British Ambassador in Washington to follow and keep an eye on the anarchists when it was learned they were coming from Europe 25 – and Lieutenant Edward Ballinger of the Chicago Police Department’s Detective Bureau, 26 she had carried out the difficult assignment successfully and without letting it become known that her organization was involved. Unfortunately, circumstances had allowed the actress and the bogus priest to evade arrest.
That Killem was paying far greater attention than was suggested by his attitude became apparent while Belle was explaining why it had been considered necessary for her to intervene. Politely and without giving offence, he had raised points similar to those made to the Kid by Ballinger on their first meeting. He had remarked that, particularly as there was not the slightest chance of the invasion being successful, the British Government might have preferred to let it take place in the hope of benefiting financially from a legal action against the United States. Like the detective, he had accepted the Englishman was completely sincere when declaring that – regardless of what any ‘so and so political johnny’ might think – he considered it was more important to prevent something which would result in pointless misery, suffering and killing than to be influenced by the possibility of monetary gains for his country.
In the course of their investigations, Belle and the Kid had discovered that the anarchists were involved with Arnaud Cavallier in what was almost certainly to be a plot to cause further unrest and strife in Canada. They had also suspected that, in addition to having collected money and purchased weapons to equip the Irish invasion, the actress and the impostor had also organized a supply of arms and ammunition to be delivered for use by le Loup-Garou’s Metis’ supporters.
On learning that the actress and “Devlin” had escaped, suspecting that Cavallier’s arms would be delivered to the Montana town of Stokeley, Belle and the Kid had come to Mulrooney with the intention of traveling there on a railroad spur line. It was fortunate that, prior to their arrival, they had settled upon the kind of identities with which to conceal their purpose. They had so changed their appearances that when they discovered their suppositions were correct and the anarchists had joined le Loup-Garou – the discovery having been made when they went to the Railroad House Hotel for accommodation, found he had signed the register in his own name and was accompanied by a “married” couple – they were able to stay under the same roof without being recognized.
‘They haven’t given up the idea,’ Belle declared, at the conclusion of her narrative. ‘And, if anything, what they’re planning with the Metis could be even worse than the Irish invasion.’
‘What’re Metis?’ Calamity inquired.
‘Not what, dear girl, who,’ the Kid corrected and, after explaining, went on, ‘We, the Canadian authorities that is, had trouble with them a few years ago and they proved to be excellent fighting men over their own kind of terrain. But, while I’d be the last to argue that they haven’t had cause for complaint, Cavallier’s not like the Louis Riels, father or son. They were content merely to try and redress the Metis’ grievances. I can’t see Cavallier having no more than that in mind. It’s rumored he would like a nation of his own to rule and he’s got a reputation for not being too particular how he goes after things he wants. They don’t call him le Loup-Garou, the Werewolf, for nothing.’
‘Seems to me like all you have to do is get ’em arrested and sent back to Chicago,’ Killem remarked, scratching his jaw pensively. ‘Only something tells me it’s not as all-fired simple as that.’
‘It isn’t, for a number of reasons,’ Belle conceded with a wry smile, thinking that at least one of her activities in Chicago would be better left unrevealed. ‘In the first place, we can’t have them arrested and brought to trial without the whole affair being made public. What’s more, in spite of all we suspect, obtaining a conviction where the Gorr-Kauphin woman and Cavallier are concerned would be extremely difficult, if not impossible. We haven’t any legally acceptable evidence against either of them. Although I doubt whether “Devlin”, whoever he might be, would let her get away with it if he was being tried, she could even try to pretend she didn’t know he was an imposter. Or at least claim she didn’t know he had murdered the real “Father Devlin”.’
‘Even if we obtained convictions against both of them,’ the Kid went on, ‘that would still leave Cavallier free. Although Marcel Tinville told us it was le Loup-Garou who killed him, I don’t think our superiors would be any too pleased about our appearing in the witness box. They tend to be a bit stuffy about little things like that.’
‘Looks like you’ll have to figure out some other way of stopping them then,’ Killem suggested, apparently sleepily.
‘We will,’ Belle confirmed, far from being taken in by the burly freighter’s attitude.
‘There’s one thing I don’t understand,’ Freddie put in. ‘You said that you believe they’ve arranged for a supply of arms to be used by the Metis?’
‘We’re not certain they did,’ Belle admitted. ‘But the evidence points that way.’
‘Even if they did, they must have had to leave Chicago hurriedly,’ Freddie went on. ‘Would they have been able to fetch the consignment with them at such short notice?’
‘They might not have needed to bring it,’ Belle replied. ‘There aren’t too many sources capable of supplying such a large quantity of arms and ammunition. In fact, I only know of one man who could do it so quickly.’
‘Why haven’t you nailed his hide to the wall if you know him?’ Calamity demanded.
‘I should have said we know that he exists, but not who he is except by his nickname, die Fleischer,’ Belle explained. ‘That’s German for “the Butcher”. However, from what we learned in Chicago, I feel sure he lives there. So I intend to go and see if I can find him after we’ve dealt with Gorr-Kauphin and her friends.’ 27
‘Would he be able to arrange for Cavallier’s arms to be delivered to the Metis?’ Freddie inquired.
‘He’s said to be able to deliver arms anywhere and at short notice,’ Belle replied. ‘And I’m sure he’s done so this time. If he hasn’t, there wouldn’t have been any reason for Gorr-Kauphin and “Devlin” to come west after things went wrong in Chicago. Nor would Cavallier be helping them merely out of the goodness of his heart. From what little I know and have seen of him, he doesn’t have any goodness in it,’
‘He’s not noted for being overburdened with the milk of human kindness,’ the Kid confirmed, looking and sounding as if the subject under discussion was more boring than important. ‘And the arms may already be in Mulrooney, or are being brought here very shortly. A chappie called Lincoln has got in touch with them.’
‘Jebediah Lincoln?’ Calamity snapped, throwing a glance at her emp
loyer.
‘That could be his name,’ the Kid replied. ‘At least, the charming young lady who was our hostess at blackjack said his name was Jeb Lincoln when I rather craftily brought the subject up in casual conversation. Do you know him?’
‘Run across him a couple of times,’ the red head answered. ‘He’s got a small freight outfit and rumor has it he’s done him some selling guns to Injuns, but nothing’s been proved or you wouldn’t’ve seen him today.’
‘In that case, he may work for die Fleischer, or have been hired by him to deliver the guns to Cavallier,’ Belle commented. ‘Either way, it shouldn’t be difficult for me to arrange to have his wagons searched.’
‘Likely not,’ Killem conceded. ‘Only it’s been tried afore now, more than once, but nothing’s ever been found in them. And that includes twice when Injuns have sudden-like showed up with more than normal numbers of guns not long after.’
‘Has he ever been searched properly?’ Belle inquired.
‘How do you mean, properly?’ Killem challenged.
‘Has it been done by an expert?’ Belle queried.
‘Like who?’ Calamity put in, remembering how the Rebel Spy had acted and sensing what might be coming.
‘By somebody who knows as much, or even more, than he does about wagons and freighting,’ Belle elaborated.
‘Somebody like Dobey here, maybe,’ the red head guessed. ‘Or better still, me.’
‘Why you, Calam?’ the burly freighter wanted to know.
‘I don’t reckon good ole Jebediah would take kind to the notion of you going over his wagons happen they were carrying guns,’ Calamity replied. ‘Or me either, comes to that, unless I was working for him,’
‘Working for him!’ Killem repeated. ‘Why’d you be working for him?’
‘Well now, was you to fire me ’cause of all the fuss I get into, I’d have to get took on by somebody else seeing’s how driving a wagon’s all I know,’ Calamity pointed out, then became more serious. ‘Damn it all, Dobe. You’ve heard what that actress and her bunch’ll do to get what they want. Anybody who’d be willing to kill a priest, or let her own brother be made wolf-bait when he was bad hurt, to make sure he wouldn’t talk out of turn when he came to in hospital, so5s they can help start up a couple of shooting fusses’s’ll see a whole lot of innocent folks put under afore they’re settled – well, I reckon they’ve just got to be stopped. And, hot damn, I’m willing to do anything I can to help stop them.’
