Brings the Lightning (The Ames Archives Book 1)

by Peter Grant

  “Yes, I do; also Colt’s 1862 Pocket Police Model revolver, a five-shot .36 caliber that I think is a superior weapon for that purpose. The shortest version has a barrel only three-and-a-half inches long. However, you may wish to take advantage of the misfortune of a late customer of mine. He was a riverboat gambler who commissioned me to alter a Colt Army revolver to his specifications. Regrettably, he died in an altercation down in Natchez before he could pay for it and take delivery. If you want a concealed gun, it might suit you very well.”

  He bent, rummaged in a drawer below the counter, and took out something wrapped in baize cloth. He unfolded it to reveal the strangest-looking revolver Walt had ever seen. The grip, frame and cylinder were conventional Colt components, but the hammer spur had been shortened, there was no loading lever, and the barrel had been cut back from eight to about two-and-a-half inches. The stub was topped with a high shotgun-style brass bead instead of a regular front sight. The gun had been expertly refinished.

  “The muzzle blast must be something fierce,” Walt commented as he picked it up.

  “Not as bad as you’d expect. My client planned to load it with fifteen grains of top-grade English priming powder. That burns much faster than regular gunpowder, to give the best possible velocity out of so short a barrel, but without the huge muzzle flash one would otherwise expect. It also has higher pressure, of course, but fifteen grains is only half the normal charge weight of regular powder, so that’s still within safe limits. I’ve made up fifty paper cartridges for it with that load.”

  “Hmm… Accuracy? Power?”

  “It’s designed for conversational distances like this, or across a card table. Accuracy isn’t an issue at such short ranges. As for power, I tested it after I cut down the barrel. From ten feet, a normal Colt Army revolver with its eight-inch barrel will drive a .44 lead ball through four or five one-inch pine boards, spaced an inch apart. A ball from this gun at ten feet, even with its reduced charge, will penetrate one board and lodge in the second. That’s twice as good as a typical Henry Deringer pistol; its ball won’t fully penetrate even one board.”

  “How about that Colt Pocket Police model?”

  “It penetrates about the same as this; one-and-a-half boards. I should add that it shoots rather high for its sights, but that’s something one can allow for with practice.”

  “Yes, or have the front sight modified. How do you load this gun without a loading lever?”

  “It comes with a custom-made ramrod. I suggest you remove the cylinder to load it.”

  “I see. How much?”

  “The gun was new, and then there’s the cost of my professional services on top of that. It’ll be forty-five dollars for the package. That includes its special ammunition and a shoulder holster. It’s surprisingly fast to draw from beneath a coat. The very short barrel helps, of course.”

  “I’ll take it. I also want one—no, two of those short Pocket Police revolvers.”

  “I have them in stock. Will that be all, sir?”

  “Far from it. I want leather cases for the rifles, and a lot more.” Walt rattled off a long list of ammunition, accessories and supplies, while Fitch made hurried notes. “I’d like to collect everything by close of business tomorrow. Can you meet that deadline?”

  “It’ll be tight, but yes, I think so. I suggest you bring a trunk in which to pack everything except the rifles—or I can supply one, of course.”

  “Please do that, and provide protective padding to separate everything inside. What’s the total? I’ll pay you half now, half on collection tomorrow.”

  “Give me a few moments, please.”

  Fitch scribbled columns of numbers on a sheet of paper, muttering to himself as he made mental calculations. At last he looked up. “I’m afraid it’ll be expensive, Mr. Ames. I figure the cash price after your trades to be two hundred and forty-two dollars in gold, or twice that in greenbacks.”

  “Done.”

  Walt didn’t hesitate to hand over six double eagles. The profit margin on so large an order would ensure the gunsmith’s best efforts to get him all he needed before his departure. Of course, if his future brother-in-law ever found out that he’d used his name as a reference to buy weapons, despite his status as a paroled Confederate, he probably wouldn’t be happy; but by then Walt would be too far away for it to matter.

  ―――――

  He arrived back at his hotel room to find that his new clothing had been delivered. He tried on one of the four sets of working clothes, finding them loose-fitting and comfortable. There were also six white shirts, four cotton and two silk, with stiff detachable collars; two conservatively-cut business suits; and a suitably elegant formal evening suit. He’d be well dressed during the journey to St. Louis, and would be able to create the right impression when he arrived there.

  Walt examined the business suits carefully. There was room to tailor a narrow leather-lined pocket inside the left and right chest of each jacket, sized to fit a small Colt Pocket Police revolver. He resolved to get that done the very next day. The tailor might question his haste, but he figured payment in gold would produce rapid results. The jacket of the evening suit didn’t have as much space inside its lapels, but he’d foreseen that, and bought it sized a little larger in the chest than fashion dictated. That would allow him to conceal a shoulder holster beneath it.

  He put on the evening suit to confirm that he could move easily in it, and nodded in satisfaction as he examined himself in the mirror. He looked very different to, and altogether more suave than, the bedraggled cavalryman who’d made his way home just a few weeks before.

  He left the jacket lying on the bed until Rose should return from her shopping trip. While he waited, he took the bear claw necklace from his bag. He severed the old leather thong and threw it away, then opened a jar of beeswax softened with mineral oil that he used to wipe down the exterior surfaces of his guns, took one of the rags he’d cut from his old shirts, and polished each of the claws to gleaming brightness. Finally, he restrung the claws on a new leather thong, tying knots between them to space them out evenly.

  He’d just finished when there came a tapping at the connecting door to the next room. He opened it to find Rose standing there, pink with excitement, wearing a new blue dress. Her hair had been put up in the latest fashion, too. She beamed at him. “You were right! The dress shop owner was haughty and distant at first, when she saw my old, unfashionable clothing; but when I mentioned that I needed four new outfits right away, and would pay in gold, she couldn’t help me fast enough. Thank you so much for your generosity! They measured me for this one first, then adjusted it while I tried on lots of other things. The rest of my order will be ready in two days.”

  “Not many people can afford to buy so much these days, or pay in good Yankee gold. I’m not surprised the owner changed her attitude so quickly. I must say, you look very pretty in that dress, with your hair up like that.” He stepped back, indicating his own finery. “What do you think?”

  “Why, sir, I think you’re the handsomest man I’ve seen in a long time! Put on your jacket, so I can see you properly attired.”

  He slipped it on, and she walked around him, inspecting critically. “That suits you very well. I’m glad you had the barber shave your beard. You look quite the man about town now.”

  “Why, thank you. I expect I’ll look even more so when my new boots, shoes and belts are ready.”

  “Yes—and just wait until you see the rest of what I bought! We’re going to be the envy of the other passengers on the riverboat, looking like this.”

  “Did you buy the tickets?”

  “I’ve got them in my reticule. I booked adjoining staterooms, as we did here, with a connecting door, telling them you were my nephew as you advised. They were terribly expensive—twenty gold dollars each! It’s scandalous!”

  “Well, the Cumberland River Queen is said to be the best of the riverboats on the St. Louis route, so her fares are naturally higher. When d
o we leave?”

  “Three days from now.”

  “Good. That gives me time to buy a few more things, and to test my new guns. I bought one for you, too.” He described the Colt Pocket Police revolver. “A Southern lady should be able to defend her honor. You already know how to shoot, I’m sure.”

  “Why, I should think so, Mr. Ames! I’ve shot many a raccoon or possum or thieving bird, and also rabbits for the pot.”

  “Good. You can come shooting with me in the fields outside town. I’ll show you how to load, fire and clean your revolver.” He took his watch from his waistcoat pocket and glanced at it. “It’s after five, and we’re already well dressed. What do you say we dine a little early, then take in a show? We may as well display our finery to the rest of the city.”

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Ames! I accept with pleasure. Let me get my new cape.”

  “Cape?” he said, wonderingly. “Well, I never.”

  “Welcome aboard de Cumberland River Queen, suh. My name is Jason. I’ll be your cabin servant durin’ de run to Sain’ Louee.” The smartly uniformed servant smiled, his brilliantly white teeth dazzling against his dark lips and black skin.

  “Thank you, Jason.” Walt dug in his pocket, found a half-eagle, and flipped it to him. The man’s eyes widened in astonishment as he caught the five-dollar gold coin, and instinctively he raised it to his mouth and bit it. Walt couldn’t help but smile to see it. “Yes, it’s real. Look after me and Mrs. Eliot in the cabin next door, and there’ll be another one when we get there.”

  “Yassuh! You’se gonna be de bes’ looked after people on dis boat, you jus’ wait an’ see!”

  “Good. We want privacy, you hear? No one wandering in and out of our cabins, and no one looking in the windows or doors either. I know some bad characters have been known to tip servants to let them into staterooms. If that happens to us, you’ll be food for the catfish!”

  “No, suh! No way dat gonna happen to my passengers!”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Walt grinned to himself as the servant stacked his baggage in a corner of the stateroom, poured water from a jug into his washstand bowl, then bustled through the connecting door to Rose’s cabin. He’d heard too many stories to be under any illusions about the level of crime aboard riverboats, even though the Queen was supposed to be the best and most secure among those plying the Cumberland River route. He’d invested an awful lot of money in his outfit and in Rose’s. A little more to see everything safely to St. Louis was cheap insurance. He had no doubt Jason would enlist the help of one or two of his fellow workers. For a share of Jason’s tips, they’d work with him to safeguard Walt’s and Rose’s cabins and possessions.

  He washed his face and hands, hung his jacket in the closet, and went out onto the upper deck balcony. He was standing there enjoying the sunshine when Rose came out of her cabin to join him.

  She yawned. “Why do they start so early in the morning? I was hard pressed to be ready in time. I’ve grown used to a more relaxed, leisurely awakening since we arrived here.”

  Walt smiled. “Yes, it’s been like a holiday, hasn’t it? I understand the departure is early because the captain wants as much daylight as possible for the passage. This ship ties up every night rather than risk running aground on a sandbar in the dark, or hitting a snag and holing the hull. There’s a reason the average riverboat doesn’t last much longer than five years. The Queen has a reputation for comfort and safety, but that’s at the expense of speed. Other ships will make the run two or three days faster. Still, I’d rather get there in one piece.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t agree more!” She smiled. “Besides, they say the food aboard this ship is the best on the river. We may as well take our time and enjoy it.”

  They watched as the last passengers came aboard. Every one of the fifty staterooms was occupied, with another two hundred people finding places for themselves among the bales and barrels of cargo on the main deck outside. Most of them appeared to be newly-discharged Union troops on their way home. The ship’s steam whistle shrilled, the lines were cast off, and with a rumble and swish from the stern paddlewheel and a dull thumping from the reciprocating steam engine, the riverboat backed away from the quayside. There was a pause as the engine was put ahead, followed by another rumble, and the Cumberland River Queen turned into the main channel and slowly left Nashville behind.

  Walt and Rose spent the morning sitting in comfortable chairs on the upper deck balcony, watching the river banks pass slowly by, enjoying a light lunch brought to them by a very attentive Jason and two waiters he introduced as Samson and Elijah. “Dey gonna help me keep an eye on your t’ings, suh,” he assured Walt. “You gonna be well looked after.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, nodding to the two men.

  After lunch, Rose decided to take an afternoon nap, but Walt wasn’t feeling tired. He walked around the ship, observing everything that was happening, making mental notes about the other passengers. Most of the former Union troops were still in uniform. Several gamblers in civilian clothes were circulating among them, offering various games of chance. He thought sourly that by the time they’d finished rigging their games, marking their cards and weighting their dice, there wouldn’t be much left to chance at all. Still, the soldiers were adults, and would have to learn that lesson for themselves if they hadn’t already done so. Some of them were wagering large amounts, probably out of their discharge pay, he realized. His smart new clothes attracted the interest of the gamblers, but he declined their repeated invitations to join a game.

  That evening he said to Rose, as they went down to supper, “There’s a prime collection of cardsharps and confidence tricksters aboard. I’ve been watching them all afternoon. I hope you won’t be tempted to play.”

  “I trust you weren’t taken in by any of their tricks?”

  “No, not that they didn’t try. Look sharp, they may try some of them on you as well. You’re bound to catch their eye. After all, you’re the most attractive lady on board by far.”

  She dimpled with pleasure. “Why, thank you, kind sir! As for the confidence tricksters, I’ll leave it to you to deal with them.” Her face darkened. “I had some men like that try to talk me out of my farm after my husband died. They went on and on about how much money they could get for me if I let them act on my behalf, but they would never be specific when I asked them questions. My father always told me to beware of fast-talking men. They proved to me he was right!”

  The evening meal demonstrated that the Queen’s claim to serve the finest food on the Cumberland River was justified. Six courses were served, from soup, to fish, to poultry, to a standing roast of beef, to a steaming glutinous fruit pudding with custard, ending at last with a plate of cheese, crackers and nuts. As they sipped their coffee and picked at the nuts, Rose whispered to him, “I do declare! If we’re going to eat like this every day, I’m going to need the seams let out of all my lovely new dresses by the time we get to St. Louis!”

  “I’ll have the same problem with my new clothes,” he agreed. “Would you like to take a few turns around the balcony to settle our meal?” He nodded up at the inner balcony encircling the big dining saloon, offering interior access to the staterooms.

  “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

  Several other couples were doing the same, and they exchanged greetings and pleasantries as they passed them. Looking down, Walt watched as waiters cleared the dining tables, separated them into smaller units, and spread them out around the big saloon. It wasn’t long before groups of men began to congregate around them. Cards, dice, roulette wheels and other gambling apparatus were brought out, and soon several games were in progress. He noticed the chief steward keeping a watchful eye on activities, as were the waiters who moved back and forth, taking and serving orders for drinks.

  Some of the Union Army men from outside came in to join the games. He wondered for a moment why they’d been permitted to do so, until he saw them produce large w
ads of greenbacks. They must be the winners from this afternoon, he thought. I wonder how much they’ll have left when the tables close for the night?

  They watched from above as a dealer raked in several banknotes after a cast of the dice. “How does he do it?” Rose whispered to him. “He doesn’t seem to win more than one hand in three or four, but the ones he wins are always bigger than the ones he loses.”

  “He picks his marks carefully. Notice how most of the times he loses, it’s to those he wants to cultivate. He’ll let them win several rolls of the dice; then, when their confidence is high, he baits them into betting a lot of money and takes it from them. It’s an old trick. Also, notice that burly man walking slowly around the table? He always ends up behind someone who’s about to lose a lot of money. He’ll be working with the dealer. He’ll threaten anyone who makes too much trouble over losing, and hit them over the head if necessary.”

  “But how does the dealer make sure to win the big hands?”

  “The same way he makes sure to lose the small ones. Those dice are almost certainly loaded. Watch the action of his wrist as he rolls them around in the cup, up and down, and side to side. There’ll be weights in the dice to make sure they line up the right way.”

  “You seem to know a lot about it.” She raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. “I hope you aren’t a card sharp yourself, Mr. Ames?”

  “No, I’m not, but we had them and bunco men aplenty in army camps. I lost my share of money to them at first, before I learned their ways. In my first fight with Union cavalry, I helped one of our scouts. He was wounded, and I pulled him across my saddle to get him out of there. He was grateful enough to take me under his wing and teach me all he knew about scouting—which is how I became a scout myself—and about cards and dice as well. He knew a lot about both.”

  “I see. I’d like to get a closer look at that dealer.”

  “If you wish, although I must warn you some of the men down there aren’t fit company for a lady.” He hesitated. “Some dealers may try to lure us into a game. I’ll fend off any approach as politely as I can. If something more direct might be needed, I’ll flex my forearm, like this, so you can feel it beneath your hand.” He demonstrated. “If you feel that, step away to give me room—and please warn me if anyone tries to set himself up behind me, as you’ve seen that burly man doing.”