by J. T. Edson
‘We’d better!’ seconded the Honorable Claud Messinger—who was tall, painfully thin and weak chinned—also rising and thinking how pleasant it would be to lay hands upon the shapely and far from excessively clothed red head.
Big and burly in a similar fashion, their bulk more attributable to a mutual addiction to the ‘pleasures of the flesh’ rather than from hard work or strenuous exercise, Randolph Tooks and Saul Siniter shared Messinger’s motivation for leaving the table. Patrons of the ‘sport of kings’ often spoke of them in the same breath as the ‘Hon. Claud.’ and their host. In all four cases, the terms employed were hardly of endearment and, depending upon the extent of losses incurred as a result of one or another of them manipulating the way their respective horses ran in races, mostly the comments were comprised of numerous profanities. Striding away from the table, without realizing Frithington-Evans was falling behind—although, knowing him to be very cautious by nature, neither would have been surprised by the discovery—each wanted to be the first to reach Lady Mary’s assailant and have the privilege of taking hold and restraining her.
‘Get your cotton picking hands offen my woman, you Limey sons-of-bitches!’
Hearing the command from close behind, ‘Snoopy’ concluded it was addressed to his companions and himself by an irate male American. However, the sensation of alarm created by the hostile tone and words diminished as he turned and took in the appearance of the closer of the two young men wearing tuxedos—as opposed to the more formal ‘white tie’ attire of his party and the majority of male customers—who were approaching. Deciding it would be safe to prevent by physical means what was clearly intended to be intervention on the part of the small ‘Yankee’, he stepped forward to do so.
Like others who had been misled by the small stature of Sergeant Alvin Dustine ‘Rapido Clint’ Fog, Frithington-Evans was not left for long in ignorance of his error!
Starting to reach out, the dishonest race horse owner suddenly wondered why he had imagined the man in front of him was small. In some inexplicable and alarming way, he found he was up against what struck him as being a most massive and dangerous proposition. However, he was given no opportunity to revise his intentions. Before he could draw back, although his hands fell limply to his side rather than merely being withdrawn, a sensation which felt like he had received a kick from a mule impacted against his stomach. Letting out a strangled belch of agony, he clutched at his mid-section and, starting to fold over, stumbled backwards.
Snoopy was in no condition to appreciate the fact, but he might have considered himself fortunate in his treatment!
Although Rapido was grasping the yawara stick in his right hand, he used his knuckles and not one of its even harder rounded ends to deliver the blow. Nor, having been told of the unscrupulous activities of his victim, had he any compunctions over the way he acted. Furthermore, aware that such behavior was characteristic of the other three men, he did not feel the slightest qualms over employing whatever means he might consider would be required against any of them.
Glancing around, annoyed at having been outdistanced by the other two in making for the red head, Siniter let out an imprecation more suited to the stable yard in times of stress than his present elegant surroundings. Wanting to vent his disappointment upon somebody, but being a bully imbued with a streak of caution, he lunged towards Rapido as his selection for being the most suitable and easy recipient.
The burly man was moving too swiftly to be impressed by the transformation seemingly produced by the strength of the small Texan’s personality. Nevertheless, he fared even worse than his host. Side stepping the rush he was making, with the ease of a mongoose, avoiding the strike of a much larger snake, Rapido snapped a kick into his stomach and, as he blundered helplessly past, sped him on his way by driving an elbow against his shoulders. Propelled forwards at an increased rate, he sprawled across and overturned a table to the accompaniment of loud spoken protests from the people sitting around it.
Darting by his amigo, Sergeant Mark ‘Comanche Blood’ Scrapton went to where Tooks and Messinger had each grabbed Rita by an arm with the intention of making her release the blonde who she was dragging from the floor by the hair. Caught by the shoulder with a grip so painful it caused him to let go and turn upon his unexpected assailant, the former gave a snarl of rage. Snatching himself free of the grip, he swung a roundhouse punch at the deeply bronzed faced of the red haired young man who had intervened.
In spite of what happened to him, like Frithington-Evans, the burly dishonest racehorse owner might have considered himself fortunate his fate was not far worse!
Although the illustrious grandfather of the Indian dark Texan had had a Comanche-trained indifference to using nothing other than bare hands when dealing with antagonists, preferring more lethally effective measures, the changed circumstances of his generation had caused him to acquire competence in fighting without relying upon weapons.
Ducking beneath the comparatively slow moving blow without difficulty, its intention having been ‘telegraphed’ to his trained sensed, Comanche quickly straightened and caught Tooks by the lapels of a well cut Savile Row tail coat. Jerked forward, the bulky man was brought into a position where he could receive something which would have gladdened the heart of many a ‘punter’ disgruntled by having lost money as a result of his chicanery in a horse race. Rising with speed and power, a knee caught him at a most vulnerable portion of his anatomy and would necessitate a temporary suspension of his less than honorable intentions towards the young woman who he had invited to be his guest. Even as he gave vent to an agonized gurgling profanity and tried to bend over in the hope of relieving the nauseating agony assailing him, he was subjected to a surging swing and heave. Sent reeling in the opposite direction to Snoopy, he too had his progress halted by crashing into a table.
On feeling her arms grasped from behind, concluding she would be advised to turn her attention elsewhere, Rita removed her fingers from the blonde’s hair. Fortunately for Lady Mary, being shoved back flat on the floor by a vigorous jab from her left foot, she had taken the precaution of gaining extra mobility by kicking off her high heeled shoes prior to entering the open area. By the time the thrust was carried out, the arrival of Comanche had removed one impediment to her freedom of movement. Twisting to face the other, she treated him as she had Beauregard Wiggins at the Turtleback Cottage in Brownsville. Although her tactics proved just as effective where the ‘Hon. Claud’ was concerned, her part in the affair was still not ended. The blonde rolled over and, grabbing her by the legs, caused her to fall. Spluttering furious profanities, Lady Mary swarmed on to the red head and as spirited a brawl as had ever been seen on a ‘Cat Fight Night’ was commenced.
Despite what would undoubtedly have proved a major attraction taking place in the center of the floor, there were few spectators able to enjoy it!
Commotion was erupting amongst the occupants of the room!
Despite having been employed for brawn rather quickness of wit, the bouncers, realizing things were not going as intended, moved forward more quickly!
Neither was allowed to carry out his intention of intervening!
Having remained at their table instead of accompanying the Texans, Jason Grant Reeder deftly inserted a foot between the legs of one passing bouncer and tripped him up!
At the opposite side of the room, Major John Gray Reeder sprang to his feet. Giving a bellow of, ‘Scrum down, boys!’ he tackled the second bouncer as if upon a rugby field. They went sprawling into and smashed beneath them a nearby table. Leaping out of the way, the three men who had sat at it elected to retaliate. As they were starting to do so, others joined the fray. Nor was the involvement of some of them purely by chance. Alerted by the pre—arranged signal, several officers of the Rifle Brigade—wearing civilian evening dress and there at the instigation of the Major—showed the rapidity of movement for which their regiment was famous by leaping up and rushing to his rescue. 65 While doing so, some of them
contrived to charge into others of the clientele or waiters and spread the conflict even wider.
The increase of hostilities did not remain for long a purely masculine province!
There were half a dozen intended ‘combatants’, three of whom had become on good terms with Rita, present and awaiting the signal to start their respective ‘bouts’. Seeing the women belonging to Snoopy’s group going towards the embattled feminine duo, and having no liking for Lady Mary after her treatment of Molly Nickerson, the trio hurried forward to prevent them attacking the ‘nice Yankee bird’. Aroused by the excitement, the other three and several of the female customers began fights of their own.
For the first time since starting to put on the ‘Cat Fight Nights’ Churgwin was not in attendance. He had been summoned for a conference with Olga Flack at her hiding place. If he was present, he would have been furious at what was happening to the Club which was his particular pride and joy. The fixtures and fittings upon which he had lavished a lot of money were soon suffering what was generally irreparable damage. In addition, every table and chair was broken. One of the latter was thrown deliberately by Jason Grant through a window after the heavy drapes which would otherwise have protected it were torn down in an equally predetermined fashion by Major John Gray.
Despite having disposed of Frithington-Evans and his male companions, Rapido and Comanche were not content to rest upon their laurels. Nor were they allowed to do so, or even to try and separate Rita and the blonde if that had been their intention. Sharing the bouncers’ appreciation of the situation, some of the waiters had come on to the open space. Their number was augmented by occupants of the overturned tables seeking vengeance. Fortunately for the Texans, however, there was no concerted action against them and the fighting which commenced quickly became general amongst the new arrivals.
Regardless of being occupied in protecting himself against various would be assailants, without making use of the yawara stick he was still grasping, Rapido was far from being oblivious of what was happening elsewhere in the room. Therefore, he noticed something which posed a threat to a subsidiary part of the scheme upon which his party were engaged.
There was a man present who, in addition to almost certainly having been responsible for the Chopper leaving the United States, had consistently and knowingly assisted guilty criminals to evade the consequences of their often far from minor misdeeds.
One of the functions for which Company ‘Z’ of the Texas Rangers had been created was to deal with situations of this kind!
Fortunately, the small Texan was close enough to his amigo to decide what he considered might offer a solution!
‘Send me over there, Comanch’!’ Rapido requested in a sibilant hiss, blocking a blow coming his way and propelling the waiter trying to deliver it to one side with a power packed counter punch.
‘Yo!’ responded the Indian dark sergeant.
Chapter Fifteen – You’re Going For a Ride!
Attending the Pinhole Club at the expense of its owner, having a penchant for the kind of entertainment offered on a ‘Cat Fight Night’, Wallace Oswald ‘Wally’ Marks looked far more cleanly and better dressed than was ever the case—due to his pose of being a poor and less than successful member of the Bar—during ‘office hours’. Sharing his table, as they always did on such occasions, were his two private and confidential secretaries. Sylvia Cornelius was attired in a most attractively feminine fashion as usual and had been one of the women present who expressed disapproval over the less than decorous appearance presented by Lady Mary Herban. However, in spite of her very close friend’s expressed views on how a woman should dress in public, Nina Tanner wore the ‘white tie and tails complete’ of the opposite gender. Stories were still told in some circles around London about what had happened to a man indiscreet enough to express amusement over her predilection for masculine attire.
Being a connoisseur of such events, the dishonest solicitor would have enjoyed watching what was obviously a genuine fight between the aristocratic blonde beauty and the equally attractive, scantily dressed and somewhat more shapely red head. However, aware that William Maxwell ‘Billy’ Churgwin was not present and realizing the danger being created by the situation when the brawl became general, he reluctantly decided it was inadvisable to stay. Making a sign to the two women, he shoved back his chair and got up with the intention of leaving. Sharing his summation, although they too normally took pleasure from watching the ‘bouts’ between others of their sex, his companions also came to their feet and Sylvia picked up her reticule, one of which she always carried when outside the flat she shared with Nina.
Despite having given the traditional assent of the United States’ Cavalry to the request from his amigo, Sergeant Mark ‘Comanche Blood’ Scrapton gave the impression of having failed to recognize the person who had addressed him, and lashed out with a roundhouse left punch. Although nobody else in the vicinity noticed, being fully occupied by their own activities, this failed to make contact. But it seemed to be propelling the recipient of his ‘blow’ away from him in an uncontrollable rush. However, having carried out his instructions, he was diverted by the need to protect himself from an attacker.
Appearances notwithstanding, Sergeant Alvin Dustine ‘Rapido Clint’ Fog knew exactly where he was going and what he meant to do!
Crossing the room precipitately and apparently with no control over his movements, the small Texan contrived to run up against Marks. Responding as if he believed he was about to be assaulted in return, he spun around and swung his right arm with all the power of a body muscled like a Hercules in miniature. What was more, aware of the nature of the man at whom he was striking, he did not restrict himself to relying upon merely flesh and bone. Caught by a rounded end of the yawara stick wielded with skill and precision, there was an audible crack as the solicitor’s jaw bone broke and he was pitched sideways to fall huddled in a corner of the room.
However, having delivered what was meant as only the preliminary to more punishment than the law had ever been able to inflict for Marks’ many transgressions, Rapido was not allowed to continue it anywhere nearly as close to .the extent Counselor Reece Mervyn had suffered at the hands of Sergeant Ranse Smith in the guise of a husband whose jealousy was aroused.
Having followed the example of her employer and Sylvia by lurching to her feet, Nina, seeing him attacked, did not take the action which the latter would have preferred under the prevailing conditions. Instead of accompanying the blonde to help him rise and leave, before the eventuality they—but not she—had envisaged should occur, she rumbled out a profanity in a voice close to bass in its timbre and lunged forward. Taking advantage of the small Texan having been compelled to turn away and deal with an attacker, although she would have preferred to encircle and crush at his rib cage without impediment as being more effective, she threw her arms around his biceps and pinioned them against his sides.
Feeling himself ensnared in a grip more powerful than any he had ever experienced except one, Rapido tried to free himself!
In spite of his far from inconsiderable strength, the small Texan found he was unable to do so!
Before Rapido could resort to other measures, help was at hand!
Seeing his amigo’s predicament, Comanche knocked aside his current assailant and darted forward. He had been warned of the massive woman’s great strength and proclivity for employing it violently, so realized severe methods would be required to deal with her. Regardless of this, he was unable to entirely restrain his inhibitions over mishandling a member of the other sex no matter how unprepossessing and potentially dangerous she might be. However, although he refrained from applying his full power to the kick he sent into her kidney region, it proved sufficient for his purposes.
Feeling the impact, a squawk of pain burst from Nina and she inadvertently relaxed her grip. Before she could reapply its previous constriction, her arms were thrown apart and her captive was free. Taking an elbow driven to the rear on to her imp
osing bosom, which hurt regardless of it being covered by something more substantial than the current trends in feminine attire, she was driven back a couple of paces. Seeing the small Texan being tackled by another man, she started to go towards him.
‘Bossy-love!’ Sylvia squealed, using the term of endearment she always employed despite being the dominant member of their association. Jumping forward and catching the massive woman by the bicep, she went on urgently, ‘Leave him alone and help me take Wallykins out of here!’
Nobody else in the world could have dissuaded Nina from seeking revenge without employing physical force, but the wishes of the petite platinum blonde were law to her. Putting aside her desire to attack the small Texan, or the man whose kick had caused her to release him, she accompanied Sylvia to where Marks was huddled in the corner.
Although hurt and with blood flowing copiously from his mouth, the solicitor was still conscious. Helped to his feet, he was able to stumble along with the women supporting him on either side. Nor, possessing far more strength than her seemingly frail appearance suggested, was Sylvia’s assistance to be despised while they were making for the door as quickly as he could manage. In spite of being burdened by him, the women knocked or kicked aside everybody regardless of sex who showed signs of trying to impede their departure. In this too, using her tiny feet with the skill of one trained in savate, the platinum blonde proved almost as effective as her companion.
Leaving the room, the trio found themselves confronted by two men and, slightly to the rear, a woman almost matching Nina in bulk!
Although Sergeant Ranse Smith had discarded Western attire in favor of a well cut tuxedo, Mr. J.G. Reeder was dressed in his usual fashion and carried the inevitable umbrella grasped in his right hand. Behind them, also having made little change to her everyday attire, Mrs. Jane Amelia Grible was looking just as grimly determined.
