The Hide and Tallow Men (A Floating Outfit Western. Book 7)

by J. T. Edson

  ~*~

  Harlow Dolman was killed at the same time that Marlene was deciding that she had been correct in her assessment of Mark’s superiority to him as a lover.

  Despite having covered about five miles, the captain had still been consumed by bitter rage to the exclusion of everything else. Such was his state of mind that he never so much as glanced at the sloping, fairly open woodland which lined each side of the trail. The idea that he might come into contact with the two outlaws who had escaped did not occur to him. Instead, he was engrossed in plotting his revenge upon the woman and the young blond for the way they had treated him. He had intended to visit Ram Turtle’s saloon, a notorious gathering place for criminals of all kinds near Fort Worth, and obtain the services of a man who could open the safe in the factory’s office. Once he had Viridian’s copies of the statement in his possession, he could set about gaining control without Marlene’s assistance. With that point already decided upon, he had been trying to think up a suitable means of obtaining his vengeance.

  Flying from among the trees on the right side of the trail, a bullet entered Dolman’s back and shattered his spine before he had reached any conclusions on his revenge. The sudden, unexpected agony caused him to wrench at the chestnut gelding’s reins as he was slammed sideways from the saddle. Snorting its alarm at such treatment, the high-spirited animal tried to bound forward. However, although Dolman’s left foot left its stirrup iron, the right did not and the pain had caused his hands to clamp tightly on the reins. With its master’s weight dragging on its head and side, the horse swung in a circle instead of bolting.

  ‘Got the bastard!’ Widge enthused, lowering the Enfield rifle which Dog-Ear had refused to use upon their proposed victim. ‘Grab his hoss!’

  While the other outlaw had declined to commit a cold-blooded murder, he did not hesitate to obey his leader’s command. Leaving his place of concealment, he sprinted down the slope and on to the trail to catch hold of and restrain Dolman’s horse.

  After fleeing from their disastrous attempt at the hold up, Widge and Dog-Ear had headed north parallel to the trail until the condition of their horses—far from top quality animals—had compelled them to halt. While resting, they had seen Dolman approaching and Widge had announced that they would take their revenge by killing and robbing him. If the captain had been more alert, he might have saved his life. The pair had hidden behind a clump of bushes, but had left their horses standing in plain view further up the slope.

  ‘I’ll have his guns, seeing’s I lost mine,’ Widge announced, laying down the borrowed Enfield while Dog-Ear liberated Dolman’s foot from the stirrup iron and freed the horse’s reins.

  Without waiting for his companion to concur, the lanky outlaw bent and tried to twist the captain’s revolver from its holster. When it did not move, he placed his foot on the body and gave a harder wrench with both hands. The ‘clamshell’s’ mechanism snapped and its front flapped open.

  ‘Looks like you’ve busted it,’ Dog-Ear commented unnecessarily, kneeling and reaching inside Dolman’s jacket to search its pockets.

  ‘Yeah!’ Widge gritted and thrust the revolver into his own holster, which had been made to take the larger Army Colt. Ignoring the weapon’s bad fit, he looked at the wallet and an envelope which his companion had brought into view. Only the former interested him. ‘That looks fat ’n’ full.’

  ‘Sure does,’ Widge conceded and opened the wallet. The first thing to meet his gaze was a silver badge pinned to the inside. Being unobservant by nature, he had never paid any attention to the insignia worn by members of the State Police. However, while he did not know what kind, he realized that their victim was a peace officer. ‘You went ’n’ killed a lawman, Widge!’

  ‘We’re both in it’s deep’s each other,’ Widge warned, snatching the wallet and staring from it to Dolman. He too failed to identify it, but did not wish his companion to know. ‘He’s only a Pink-Eye that they’d hired to help guard the payroll.’

  ‘Then what’s he doing coming back this way?’ Dog-Ear challenged, looking a little less perturbed at hearing that—according to his leader—their victim was an agent of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency and not an official peace officer.

  ‘He likely figured’s, seeing they’d run us off, the money’d be safe and he’d head back to Buck Ridge to have the bodies fetched in case there’s bounties on ’em,’ Widge guessed and indicated the envelope which had slipped from the other’s fingers. ‘What’s in that?’

  ‘I dunno,’ Dog-Ear replied, picking it up and extracting its contents. ‘I can’t read.’

  ‘It ain’t nothing important,’ Widge declared, after studying the statement of Viridian’s intentions, without informing the sole survivor of his gang that he too was illiterate. He ripped the sheet of paper into fragments and tossed them into the air to be scattered by the breeze. ‘Hey though! That means there’s only the big feller with the coach.’

  ‘Him ’n’ the woman,’ Dog-Ear corrected.

  ‘She don’t make no never mind,’ Widge stated. ‘They’ll stop the night at Joel’s Bluff way station. Happen we head down that way, we can catch up with them on the trail tomorrow and have another crack at grabbing the payroll.’

  ‘What about him?’ Dog-Ear wanted to know, nudging the body with his toe.

  ‘We’ll take him a fair piece from the trail and hide him good,’ Widge replied. ‘It’ll be a long while afore he’s missed.’

  ‘That big feller’s real dangerous,’ Dog-Ear warned.

  ‘He won’t get a chance to be,’ Widge answered, determined to make another attempt at earning the money offered by ‘Laxterby’ as well as grabbing the payroll. ‘There’s not going to be any riding up and talking this time. We’ll drop the big son-of-a-bitch as soon as we see him and keep on shooting until there ain’t none of them left alive.’

  Seven – He’s One of Ribagorza’s Scouts

  ‘Whee-doggie!’ Gus Roxterby enthused, staring with delight at the articles which Constable Hubric had brought into the factory’s office after having searched the three dead Mexicans preparatory to delivering them to the undertaker in Pilar. ‘This here’s sure our lucky day, Stack.’

  Considering that the lanky man was being far from tactful in displaying such delight over their good fortune, the corral supervisor made only a non-committal grunt in reply. Knowing their employer pretty well, Stack Leathers doubted whether he would approve of, or share, Roxterby’s pleasure.

  Raising his gaze from the cause of the floor supervisor’s exclamation, Austin Viridian confirmed Leathers’ summation by scowling malevolently.

  On hearing the news which had been brought by Otis Twickery—a surly, uncleanly, generally unpleasant and obnoxious man whose most savory way of earning a living was to hunt wolves for their skins—Leathers had acted in a sensible manner. Returning to the factory, he had instructed Roxterby to remain there instead of taking the bodies into town. Although the floor supervisor had not been too eager to accept the advice on learning what had caused it, he had done so when Leathers had pointed out that Viridian would want it handled that way and on being promised that there would be as little delay as possible in sending help from the town. However, the burly hide and tallow man’s displeasure had not been caused by him believing that Leathers was wrong in giving the advice or through Roxterby having disobeyed his orders by taking it. The feeling stemmed from another matter. Viridian would never have offered to let the supervisors share the Mexicans’ property if he had known that Gomez’s pockets would yield close to a hundred dollars, while the other two had been carrying fifteen and eighteen dollars respectively. With both beneficiaries present, he had known that there was no easy way in which he could avoid keeping his promise. Taken with some of the other results of Leathers’ arrival at the General Store, that knowledge did nothing to improve Viridian’s already simmering temper.

  Listening to the news that Ribagorza was likely to arrive before there was any hope of them obt
aining extra men, Viridian had realized that Schweitzer would not give him the money which Roxterby was supposed to be going to use to hire them. On top of that disappointment, there had been his annoyance at having been shown to be in error with his judgment. There had also been threat of very real danger for him to consider.

  Without having waited for anybody to suggest it, or asking either partner’s permission, Jesse Sparlow had taken it upon himself to organize defensive preparations. He had thrown himself into the task with commendable vigor. In fact, there had been times when Viridian had considered that the gambler’s zeal had gone beyond that of a mere—if loyal and helpful —senior employee in de Froissart’s saloon. It had implied that he believed that he had a sizeable stake in the future of the Company.

  Although Viridian had resented Sparlow’s assumption of control and attitude, he had grudgingly conceded—but only to himself—that he could not have done better. The shortage of men had raised a number of problems and had made it impossible for them to ensure complete protection against the Mexicans. While the Company employed a number of Negroes, it had been felt by the partners and Sparlow that to ask them to take part in the defense might establish a dangerous precedent and create difficulties in the future. So, utilizing their limited fighting force to its fullest advantage, the gambler had managed to supply just enough men to defend the factory and yet retain the bare minimum required to patrol the town during the hours of darkness.

  It had been while listening to Sparlow quelling the protests of those citizens who had wished to stay and guard their homes instead of going out to the factory that Viridian had had misgivings. Of course, as the gambler had pointed out, the town did depend upon the continued operation of the Company for its prosperity and existence. What Viridian had disliked most was the way in which the gambler—whose only connection with the Company stemmed from being employed in one of the partners’ independent business interests—should have been so determined to ensure that nothing happened to the factory.

  There had only been one slight ray of satisfaction for Viridian while all this had been going on. Although Sparlow had promised to send two men to guard her, Gianna Profaci had refused to consider spending the night in her home. Taking advantage of the opportunity which was being presented to him, Viridian had suggested that she occupied one of the spare bedrooms at his house. In that way, he had informed Schweitzer, Sparlow and Leathers, he and his Negro servants would protect her and save using two men who were needed to help with the patrolling of the town. If the speed with which the woman had accepted was anything to go by, she was not only aware of, but concurred with, his secondary motive for making the offer.

  Having procured an arrangement which he had felt sure would make up for his failure to contact Gianna in the woods, Viridian had gathered the factory’s defenders. Although the woman had accompanied them, Sparlow and Schweitzer had remained in the town. The former had wanted to continue with his organizing of the patrols and the latter had returned to his store so that he could purchase the wolves’ skins that Twickery had brought to sell. Rather than waste a man who would be useful in die work that lay ahead, Viridian had ordered Hubric to come and deal with the three corpses.

  On the way to the factory, Viridian had told Leathers to go and locate the Mexicans so they might assess the full extent of the danger. While anything but a coward, the corral supervisor was also no fool. Realizing how much risk would be involved in such an undertaking, he had quickly produced sound reasons why carrying it out might be inadvisable. He had pointed out that, according to Twickery—who had no apparent cause to lie—Ribagorza and his men were already behaving as if they were expecting trouble. In which case, the precautions would include posting guards or having scouts out when on the move. Leathers had stated frankly that, being aware of the high quality of the men who would be performing those tasks, he did not believe he could approach the main body without being detected. Once that happened, he had concluded, Ribagorza would realize that Gomez had failed and was most likely dead. Then he would suspect that preparations were being made to deal with him on his arrival. Admitting the advantages of preventing their enemies from becoming aware of their readiness to meet an attack for as long as possible, Viridian had countermanded the order.

  Telling Roxterby—who had not attempted to conceal his relief at the party’s arrival—to have the indoor staff complete their work, then send them to assist the corral hands, Viridian had wasted no time in setting about making the preparations. With so few men at his disposal and such a large area to cover, he had seen the wisdom of establishing strong, well-protected defensive positions and meant to have the Negroes construct them. While he had been showing the other white men what he wanted, he had sent Hubric to attend to the three dead Mexicans.

  In Viridian’s absence, the bodies had been carried into a lean-to at the end of the office annex. The two horses had been caught and were tied to one of the structure’s supporting posts. Showing surprising initiative, Roxterby had had the dead animal taken into the factory so that it could be disposed of in the same way as the slaughtered cattle.

  Leaving the rest of the party from the town to attend to the construction of the various defenses, the supervisors had joined their employer and the constable in the office. As Hubric had been watched by both of them, he had not contrived to divert any of the trio’s property. While neither Leathers nor Roxterby had envisaged such a windfall, they had felt that it was advisable to keep an eye on the constable and to make their division of the loot as soon as possible.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Roxterby went on cheerfully, so engrossed in contemplating the piles of money that he was oblivious of Viridian’s obvious displeasure. ‘This here’s turned out a whole heap better’n I thought it’d be. I never figured on getting more’n a couple of dollars cash-money from all three of ’em.’

  ‘Or me,’ Leathers admitted pensively. He had no objection to his opposite number incurring their boss’s wrath, but had no intention of duplicating such folly. So he continued by raising a matter which had been puzzling him. ‘Most of it’s pretty near new ten dollar bills. I wonder where they got ’em from?’

  Listening to the corral supervisor’s comment, Viridian found that it caused him to reconsider his earlier conclusions regarding the incident. In the first place, he had believed that Gomez’s attempt on his life had been made on the spur of the moment and had arisen out of a sense of outraged dignity over being dismissed in such a manner. Then, on hearing that Ribagorza was coming, he had wondered if the reason he had given to Schweitzer might have been correct after all. Looking at the money, he decided that the little segundo could have had a motive that was not connected with the business he had been sent to handle. Sparlow had claimed to have seen Giuseppe Profaci talking to Gomez in the town of Bryan. If they had been discussing Ribagorza’s new policy for dealing with the Company, the Italian might have seen a way in it to remove at least one of his partners.

  ‘So do I,’ Viridian grunted, after several seconds of silent deliberations. He did not offer to take the supervisors into his confidence and discuss his latest theory. ‘Finish off here. I’m going to see how the work’s coming along.’

  ‘What’ll we do about tomorrow, boss?’ Roxterby inquired, grabbing up his pile of money and stuffing it into his pocket.

  ‘How do you mean?’ Viridian asked.

  ‘Shall I tell the men to come to work, or stay at home?’ the floor supervisor wanted to know.

  ‘There’ll still be at least twenty head in the corral, boss,’ Leathers supplemented. ‘Happen they’re still alive when the shooting starts, they’re likely to get spooked and try to bust out. Not that they’d do it, but they’ll sure as hell run off some of their tallow.’

  ‘I could put them down now, but that’d mean keeping the men inside working most of the night,’ Viridian growled. ‘And there’s plenty needs doing to get ready for Ribagorza. Don’t tell them anything, unless they ask. Then say that they’d better be here the sam
e as always in the morning.’

  ‘That’d be best, boss,’ Leathers staged. ‘If Ribagorza sees them working, he might not guess we’re waiting for him. And you can count on them to keep well out of the way once the lead starts flying.’

  ‘Yeah,’ grinned Roxterby. ‘And if any of ’em should get shot, it’ll be making the greasers waste lead and we won’t need to pay ’em.’

  Ignoring the floor supervisor’s comment, although he considered that it had a certain amount of merit, Viridian left the office. Looking around, he located Gianna near the factory’s main entrance. She was talking to a couple of the defenders, but glanced his way and nodded as he signaled for her to join him.

  Feasting his eyes upon the woman as she approached him in her usual hip-swaying, sensual fashion, the hide and tallow man mentally licked his lips in anticipation of how he was hoping to spend at least part of that night. However, having more important and serious matters on his mind, he thrust such thoughts from it. He wondered if Gianna could throw any light upon a couple of the points which had occurred to him while he had been considering the possibility of Profaci having conspired with Gomez to kill him. In addition to that, he wanted to enlist her support in a scheme by which he might turn the trouble with Ribagorza to his advantage.

  ‘Let’s take a look around and make sure that everything’s being done properly,’ Viridian suggested as the woman reached him. Taking her by the right arm, without waiting to hear whether she agreed or not, he led her away from the office and went on, ‘When did Joe decide to go down to Houston?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Gianna replied. ‘Why?’

  ‘He never said anything about it on Thursday night when we went to see Bernie and find out what news Pierre had sent from Fort Worth,’ Viridian explained.

  ‘He hadn’t told me he was thinking of going, either,’ Gianna admitted. ‘He just came back and told me to pack some clothes in his saddlebags, then went on Friday morning.’