by Tony Masero
The place was busy, there were plenty of off-duty servicemen propping the long counter and a collection of civilian’s playing cards on a dais under a Wheel of Fortune machine at the far end. It was a noisy scene and tobacco smoke and conversation filled the air.
‘What’ll you have?’ asked Shane.
‘I’ll take me a beer,’ said Britt, striking a match and lighting his pipe.
‘Need more than that to see O’Brien and the others off. Set ‘em up,’ Shane said to the barman. ‘Whiskey and beer, for me and my friend.’
As the barman went off to oblige, Cromwell who was seated amongst the card players, raised his eyes from his hand of spread cards and watched Britt from under the brim of his hat. He was holding a poor hand and not paying it much attention anyway.
‘I fold,’ he said, laying the cards down on the table.
Cromwell’s eyes gleamed in the shadow of his hat and he silently fumed as he watched Britt and the new sergeant laughing together over their drinks. He had not been to see Kant or Jan in the hospital, not wanting to advertise his presence but he knew both would survive their wounds although apparently Kant would not be able to sit down for a long while and carrying out his normal bodily functions was an ongoing trip of agony.
Slowly, Cromwell pushed back his chair and got to his feet. He stepped out from behind the card table brushing back the tails of his coat so the butt of his revolver was evident. He stepped down to the end of the bar and called along the length.
‘Britt Marley! You cost me money, you son-of-a-bitch.’
Britt looked up slowly and clenched his pipe tightly between his teeth.
‘What is this?’ asked Shane, as servicemen standing along the bar read the signs and stepped nervously away.
‘Don’t concern you,’ said Cromwell. ‘Just me and this old fart here.’
‘Now hold on….’ Shane began.
‘Leave it,’ said Britt. ‘It’s between me and him.’
Britt set down his drink on the bar and watched Cromwell come close, ‘What do you think I owe you?’ he asked. ‘I told you back when, not to get in my way.’
‘I had me money coming,’ growled Cromwell through gritted teeth. ‘And you took it all away. Now I aim to make you pay.’
‘Why you….’ Shane began.
‘Step aside, Sergeant,’ said Britt. ‘This is mine.’
Reluctantly, Shane moved to one side and joined the observers.
‘Now then,’ said Britt, puffing contentedly on his pipe. ‘What exactly do you think I owe you?’
‘Five thousand dollars would do it,’ growled Cromwell. ‘But I ain’t going to get that out of a sorry has-been like you so I’ll just have to take it out of your hide instead.’
He was tense, his hand hovering over his weapon and Britt could see that one movement would bring the gun out and blasting. Instead, Britt cupped the bowl of his pipe and blew a stream of smoke in Cromwell’s face.
‘A danged sorry excuse for a human being like you don’t have that possibility in him,’ observed Britt calmly.
‘Damn you….’ Cromwell began angrily and his hand dropped to his gun. The pistol was barely out of the holster when Britt jabbed the pipe stem into Cromwell’s eye.
Cromwell howled in pain and stepped back, instinctively his hand still clearing the pistol from the holster.
But Britt was already drawing his own gun, he cocked the Colt as it cleared leather and fired almost immediately. The barrel was not two inches from Cromwell’s stomach and the bullet punched a hole clean through him. Cromwell gasped and staggered back, struggling to raise his pistol but Britt continued to fire. His Colt blasted Cromwell backwards step by step along the bar as each bullet punched in.
Unflinchingly, Britt watched as Cromwell dropped his pistol and clutched at the bar to hold himself erect. His eyes were wide and staring wildly at Britt in anger and disbelief, then his fingers gave up the grip and he tumbled to the floor. Remorselessly, Britt stepped over the fallen man, leveled his pistol and fired a finishing shot directly into the chest. He watched Cromwell’s body twitch into extinction and then stepped away, coolly spinning the chamber on his Colt and emptying the spent shells on the floor next to the body.
‘You all saw that!’ called Shane. ‘The fellow in black drew first. Britt here was defending himself.’
There was a chorus of agreement from the gathered soldiers and they all pressed forward with morbid curiosity to review the dead man. As they crowded around, Britt stepped back and silently slid away unnoticed from the hubbub.
‘Britt!’ called Shane, searching around for the scout. ‘Britt, where are you? Anybody see where he went?’
Nobody did though, and that was the last anyone at Fort Rosebud saw of Britt Marley. He collected Pencil and quietly left the place, riding off to nobody knew where, least of all himself.
Epilogue
There was a great deal of press about the event.
Once the newspapers got wind that some of the richest families in the country had lost their children to Indian attack and of the gallant rescue by the army it was headlined for weeks afterwards. The War Department made the most of all the good reviews with medals handed out posthumously to the men lost at what became known as The Battle of Three Buttes and used their story as the basis for a recruiting campaign that successfully raised the intake of recruits for the next few years.
A great deal was made of the plucky youngsters and how they had survived and overcome their hardships with many a heart rending column written over the passing of Samantha, the smallest of the party.
The Bayerlings spent a huge amount of money on bribes to ensure their daughter’s misfortunes were kept out of the press even though in the years to come she was never to be a settled person. Once her parents passed she was left as sole heiress and Elizabeth spent her later years concentrating solely on the family business and after a few disastrous relationships she contented herself by living a reclusive and solitary life in the family mansion maintained only by a few Native American servants with whom she was known to be inordinately spiteful and overbearing.
Nathan went on to the US Military Academy and passed out of West Point with full honors, he kept in touch with Elizabeth for some years but eventually their communications dried up. Commissioned as a second lieutenant, Nathan served with the 10th Cavalry Regiment and earned distinction during the Vittorio Campaign against the Apache. He subsequently quit the army to take up office as a senatorial aide in Washington DC, he married the senator’s daughter and they had four children together. Subsequently he lived into old age and died peacefully in his bed. Throughout his life he spoke very little about his experiences at the hands of the Comanche although he was known to maintain the unusual habit of wearing an Indian necklace under his shirt at all times.
Oban Reese was sent off to school but ran away after a few weeks and disappeared, it was believed he made his way to the coast and signed up as a cabin boy on a whaler out of New Bedford. He emerged many years later as the author of children’s books full of exciting tales of adventure and daring do. Many of the storylines used were considered to be inspired by his actual experiences on the high seas.
Butler Royce initially demonstrated no ill effects of his experiences but as he grew older he complained often of unsettling dreams and felt a continuing and obscure urge to find some element that was lost to him, some missing part he could not grasp. He was always unsure what it was that haunted him and he would go to his grave with a sense of loss that he never did resolve.
Not a word anywhere was ever mentioned of Britt Marley or any of his Navajo scouts.
IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK SEE THESE OTHER TITLES BY
TONY MASERO
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HARD RAIN MUST FALL * BAD DON’T MEAN WRONG * GRINGO WADE * IN THE DEVIL’S GRIP * SLASHED STAR * WAR RIDER * THE KILLING DESERT * JAKE RAINS * THE RIFLEMEN * THE PURSUED * DIRTY SHIRT BLUES * DEEP WATER RISING * DEATH RIDES ON THE HEELS OF TROUBLE * THE RAID * THE W
IDOWMAKER * THE VENGEANCE OF ENDER SMITH * DAMN FOOLS GOLD * BLOOD LEGACY FROM RAT HELL * JOHNNY DOLLAR * MISTER D’EATH AND THE JUDGE * MISTY BLUE (Series) 1: THE LAST MOUNTAIN MAN * MISTY BLUE 2: LOADED FOR BEAR * MISTY BLUE 3: A DOG CALLED KILL * MISTY BLUE 4: WILD IN THE WOODS * DEADLY MANHUNT * FULLBLOOD BOYD OVERMOUNTAIN MAN * BLOOD MOON TRAIL * BELLE SLAUGHTER (4 part Series) * CROSS BORDER KILLERS * PEACE AT WAR * TULANE * MOSE GOES WEST * GO LIGHTLY RIDER * THE HEART OF DARK PASSAGE * THE LEFT EYE GANG * BLOOD RIDDEN * THE BIGGEST WINNER IN THE WEST * THE DEAD CUT * TWENTY DOLLAR DEAD MAN * (Tears of Apache Stone series) 1: SEASON OF THE KILLING MOON * 2: TIME OF APACHE TEARS * 3: HUNT FOR A STONE KILLER * GONE ROGUE * GILDED RAGE * WINTERTIME * THE RESCUERS
THRILLERS
DEAD FALL BACK
THE GARDENER A John Chayne novel
(Writing as MICHAEL D’ASTI)
BABYCHAIN BLUES
A WEB FOR ALL GOD’S ANGELS
BLACK EYE
THE KHANDA KILLINGS
IN THE FRAME
Historical Thrillers
FEED THE CROW
THE BITTER STONES OF INTENTION
Drama
THE DECEPTIVE EYE
MOMENTS OF RECURRENCE
