by J. T. Edson
When lead started to splatter close around him, Colin knew he must run no more. If he was to die, he meant to go out as a Highlander, facing his enemies and fighting. So he slammed to a halt, pivoted around and snapped the carbine to his shoulder. There would be no time to take a careful bead. Colin looked along the barrel rather than making use of the sights, seeing the stocky, villainous shape of Matteo looming closer at the head of the attackers. An instant ahead of the Dragoon, the Spencer bellowed. As the carbine spoke, Matteo’s horse jerked its head up into the line of the shot. A .52 bullet struck the horse’s skull and it started to crumple forward on its buckling legs. Feeling his horse going down, Matteo also saw his shot churn up dirt between the Scot’s feet. A born horseman, Matteo kicked free his feet and quit the falling animal’s back. At the same moment he realized that the attack was a failure.
Leaving Mark to take on the four or so men coming their way, Dusty turned his attention to Colin’s pursuers. Left, right, left right, the small Texan’s long-barreled Army Colts sent lead at Matteo’s men. One rider screamed and slid sideways from his horse. Another cried out, swaying in his saddle. Bursting from the house, the Kid, Shad and Tex added their volume of fire to their companions’. Mark tumbled a man over the rump of his mount. Another was aiming at the blond giant when a flat-nosed .44 Winchester bullet ripped into his head.
Human flesh could only stand such treatment for a short time. Showing superb riding skill, the remaining bandidos spun their horses around and fled. Matteo was no fool. On foot, he was in great danger, an easier target than a mounted moving man and with less chance of escape. So he did not hesitate. There would be other times when revenge could be had on the man in the skirt. Matteo knew that the family honor demanded the man should die, but had no intention of being killed while doing it. Bounding on to the horse of the man Dusty had shot, Matteo whirled it in a rump-scraping turn. Swinging over to hang on the flank of the horse farthest from the house, Matteo followed his fleeing companions towards the bosque.
‘Head for the house, Ma!’ Dusty snapped. ‘Get after ’em, Lon!’
‘Yo!’ the black-dressed youngster replied.
Jeanie came from the house carrying the Sharps, shotgun and her father’s Henry rifle. Ignoring the sight of the men moving towards the bosque, she carried her burden over to where her mother and April had started to stand up.
‘What happened?’ the girl asked, handing the weapons out.
‘Colin just saved our lives,’ Ma replied. ‘If he hadn’t run—’
‘Run?’ Jeanie ejaculated.
‘Let me finish!’ Ma snapped. ‘If he hadn’t run down there and drawn them after him, they’d’ve rid clear over us.’
Holding the Sharps carbine, Jeanie turned to look to where Colin had entered the bosque with the other men. Maybe there was more to him than she had first imagined. She gave a sniff. Not that she cared one way or another, of course. With that point settled, she turned her attention back to her mother. Ma and April knelt at Temple’s side. Looking at the wound, they exchanged glances. There was nothing anybody but the undertaker could do.
Fanning out among the trees, Dusty’s party advanced. At first they had the noise of the bandidos’ hurried passage to guide them. Then it ended, but hooves drummed off across the range beyond the bosque. For all that, Dusty kept his men moving. In addition to remaining alert, Dusty took the opportunity to see how Colin reacted. Clearly the Scot had done considerable hunting. Colin moved carefully and without undue noise. Carrying the carbine ready for use, he searched every piece of cover ahead of him. Grim determination showed on the Scot’s face, along with another emotion Dusty could not decipher.
The men passed through the bosque without incident. On its outer side, they saw the bandidos galloping away in the distance.
‘You want for us to take out after ’em, Dusty?’ asked the Kid, and the two cowhands listened hopefully at his side. ‘Not right now,’ Dusty replied. ‘Was that the full gang?’
‘Not more’n half I’d say,’ the Kid answered. ‘Fifteen at most. Didn’t see Tiburcio along, or Matteo comes to that.’
Remembering the appearance of the other two brothers, Colin did not connect the stocky, poorly dressed Matteo with them and so said nothing.
‘Don’t seem likely the gang’d come without one of ’em along,’ Mark objected.
‘You boys’d best search this bosque extra careful,’ Dusty decided, for he agreed with Mark. ‘Go to it. You’d best come back to the house with me, Colin. There could be another try and the women-folk’re alone.’
‘Aye,’ Colin answered.
Leaving Mark, the Kid, Shad and Tex to conduct the search, Dusty returned with Colin through the bosque. As they walked, Colin turned his face towards Dusty and let out a long sigh.
‘I should never have come to Texas,’ the Scot announced. ‘None of this would be happening then.’
‘Maybe,’ Dusty replied.
‘Kenny wouldn’t have been wounded,’ Colin continued. ‘And Lou Temple would still be alive. Lou was killed because of me.’
‘How’d you figure that out?’ Dusty asked.
‘That bullet was meant for me, the one that hit him.’
‘Nope,’ contradicted Dusty. ‘It was fired from a rifle and aimed at Lou.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘Lou was toting that Spencer. So he was the biggest danger to ’em when they first showed from here in the trees. Figuring that, they took him out of the game first.’
‘Do you think that’s true?’ Colin asked eagerly.
‘I’d bet on it,’ Dusty assured him. ‘And what you did was mighty brave. Going away from us like that took guts.’
‘Or I was in a panic,’ Colin suggested.
‘The hell you were!’ Dusty replied. ‘You didn’t run scared, you was thinking all the time.’
The droop left Colin’s shoulders and he seemed much relieved at Dusty’s answer. Up until that moment, Colin had assumed that Dusty and the others would hold him responsible for Temple’s death or think he had fled in fright.
Leaving the bosque, Colin came to a halt and stared ahead of him. Jeanie and April stood by Temple’s body, each holding a weapon. Five bandidos sprawled limp and motionless before the house, along with the horse Colin had killed. People were coming from the town, with Lansing and two of his deputies in the lead. Hearing the sound of approaching horses, Colin turned and saw a party of soldiers coming towards them.
‘Lou’s dead,’ April said in a dull voice as the two young men came up.
‘They paid dear for it,’ Dusty answered, glancing at the bodies. ‘Where’s Ma at?’
‘Gone in to settle Kenny down,’ Jeanie replied.
Before any more could be said, the soldiers arrived. Led by a young lieutenant, they were armed with Springfield carbines, revolvers and sabers and looked to be about twenty strong. Halting his men, the lieutenant rode to where Dusty’s party stood by Temple’s body.
‘Was it the Flores gang?’ the officer demanded.
‘Sure,’ Dusty replied. ‘They took off through the bosque and were still running when we got to the other side.’
‘We’ll keep them running, unless they’re foolish enough to show fight,’ the lieutenant stated. ‘Troop—’
‘I’ve got a feller who can read sign real good, mister,’ Dusty put in, seeing that the soldiers did not have a scout along. ‘If you’d like for hi—’
‘That won’t be necessary. We can handle it,’ the officer answered and started to swing his horse away.
‘Mister!’ Dusty barked and something in his tone brought the soldier to an instant halt. ‘I’ve got men searching the woods. Watch out for them.’
For a moment the lieutenant stared down, wondering how he had come to think of Dusty as a small, insignificant man. There was an air of command, a hard-bitten do-it-or-else air about the big Texan gained only by a few of the best combat-tried captains and senior ranks. The word ‘mister’ had cracked out
in the manner of such an officer giving a warning to a junior and expecting it to be obeyed. Discipline prevented the lieutenant from raising objections.
‘We’ll go around the bosque and take up the trail at the other side,’ he announced. ‘Troops, left in threes, ho!’
‘Damned shave tail!’ Dusty snorted, watching the soldiers depart. ‘No scout and he still allows to run the Flores gang down.’
‘Will they fight?’ Colin asked.
‘Not unless they’re cornered,’ Dusty guessed. ‘More likely they’ll hide up someplace and let the soldiers hunt for them. Let’s see what the sheriff aims to do.’
It quickly became obvious that the sheriff meant to do as little as possible. Using the army’s participation as an excuse not to take out a posse, he arranged for the removal of the bodies. Only the local undertaker of the gathered citizens came forward with the sheriff. The other people hovered in the background, talking among themselves. After conferring with the undertaker, Lansing darted a worried glance in Dusty’s direction, then turned to April and Colin.
‘How much longer will you be in town?’ the sheriff asked.
‘Until they can leave safely,’ Dusty put in. ‘Or are you fixing to run them out?’
‘Naw!’ Lansing stated hurriedly. ‘It’s only that folk’re getting concerned about all this gun-play. Somebody could get hurt’
‘Somebody did!’ April snapped, pointing to Temple’s body.
‘It might be some harmless by-stander next time,’ Lansing croaked. ‘The Flores bunch won’t give up on you.’
Standing at the door of the house, Ma had caught the last part of the conversation and guessed at the rest. Stalking forward, she faced Lansing with grim annoyance on her face.
‘Don’t let it worry you, sheriff!’ she hissed. ‘We’ll be out of your town afore sundown tomorrow.’
‘I ain’t pressing you to go, mind!’ Lansing whined, flashing worried looks at Dusty. ‘Only—’
‘You don’t have to go, Ma,’ Colin put in. ‘I will.’
‘We’re all going!’ Ma insisted. ‘Even if I have to take a hickory bar to make you come along. Can I have that word with you now, Dusty?’
‘My pleasure, ma’am,’ Dusty replied. ‘That satisfy you, sheriff?’
‘Sure. Well, if Ma’s set on going I’ll not stop her.’
A harsh guffaw broke from the undertaker, who harbored few illusions about Lansing. ‘I bet you won’t,’ he said. ‘Reckon I’ll tend to Lou first and move the rest of ’em on the buckboard there.’
Sensing that her mother wanted to speak privately to Dusty, Jeanie suggested that April and Colin should accompany her into the house.
‘Best give Colin some of your pa’s pick-up medicine, gal,’ Ma said. ‘He could likely use it.’
‘I’m feeling a mite peaked myself,’ April commented. ‘So I’ll try some while you’re at it, Jeanie.’
Walking away from the sheriff and undertaker, Ma wondered how she should word her request. The need did not arise.
‘How much do you need, Ma?’ Dusty asked quietly.
‘You knew, huh?’ she said.
‘I guessed. You’ll need supplies if you get the remount contract and Hoffer’s having to ask for cash for them.’
‘That’s about the size of it,’ Ma admitted. ‘I reckon I can’t blame him.’
‘Tell me how much you need,’ Dusty said, ‘and I’ll make you out a draft against the Polveroso City bank. I reckon Hoffer’ll take it.’
‘I—I—’ Ma began huskily.
‘Uncle Devil’d have my hide if I didn’t,’ Dusty smiled. ‘Don’t forget that we need hosses as well as the Army and we’d sooner deal with you Schells than any other mustangers.’
‘Th—Thanks, Dusty,’ Ma said, blinking her eyes. ‘Must’ve caught a chill.’
‘Trader’s pick-up medicine’s good for that,’ Dusty told her, then saw a familiar figure approaching. ‘Here’s that desk-warming Yankee Colonel. Let’s see what he’s got to say.’
Coming up, Monaltrie studied the scene and then turned his attention to Ma. ‘Are they the Flores gang?’
‘Sure,’ Dusty answered.
‘The whole gang?’ Monaltrie said.
‘Nope, some of them got away.’
‘Did you get the brothers?’
‘We didn’t even see them,’ Dusty admitted.
‘Then they’ll try again,’ Monaltrie remarked.
‘It’s likely, colonel,’ Dusty admitted. ‘They can’t quit now or they’ll never get men to follow them.’
‘Damn it!’ Monaltrie barked. ‘That means they’d be after you when you leave to catch the horses, Mrs. Schell.’
‘Sure,’ Ma agreed. ‘We’re going anyways.’
‘With young Farquharson?’
‘He’s one of us now,’ Ma stated. ‘His fight’s our fight. I wouldn’t leave him behind even if taking him means I don’t get your contract.’
‘I intended to give it to you,’ Monaltrie told her. ‘But with the Flores gang after you and only one white man along—’
‘You didn’t count right, colonel,’ Dusty interrupted. ‘There won’t be just one white man along.’
‘How’s that?’ Monaltrie asked hopefully.
‘Happen Ma’ll have us, Mark, the Kid and me’ll be going with her,’ Dusty replied.
Chapter Eleven
‘If anybody’d told me afore I left Galveston that I’d wind up riding on a wagon dressed like this and headed for the Lord only knows where,’ April Hosman stated, wriggling in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, ‘I’d’ve spit right in their eye.’
Handling the reins of the powerful six-horse team with deft ease, Ma turned and grinned at the blonde. They both wore Stetson hats, men’s shirts, levis pants and boots. While Ma was used to such attire when travelling, April had expressed some dismay on discovering she would be expected to dress that way.
‘What’s up, gal?’ Ma grinned.
‘Nothing, except that I look like hell, feel worse and wish I’d stayed in Fort Sawyer and let the Flores boys shoot me. At least I’d’ve died pretty and quick. This way, I’ll be pounded to death from the seat up.’
Ma chuckled. ‘Comes another day or two, you’ll have calluses so thick on your butt-end you’ll not feel the bumps.’
‘Calluses on the butt-end’s the last thing I need,’ April groaned. ‘Do you reckon they’re after us yet, Ma?’
‘If they are, the Kid’ll see them,’ Ma replied. ‘With luck, they don’t even know we’ve gone yet.’
On hearing Dusty’s intention to accompany the mustang-hunt, Colonel Monaltrie had forgotten all his misgivings and awarded the contract to the Schell family. After which, things had started to move fast. At Ma’s request, Dusty had taken command and given April—for one—an insight as to how he gained his Civil War reputation. Courage alone had not given Dusty his successes, for he always planned and took advantage of any opportunity which arose.
Knowing that the cavalry patrol would drive the Flores gang out of the immediate vicinity of the town, Dusty stated that they would leave as soon as possible. After which, he had put everybody to work. Accompanied by Mark, Ma visited the store and presented Dusty’s bank draft. Hoffer accepted it without argument, knowing that it would be met, and gave willing cooperation to Ma’s demands. At the house, Jeanie had seen to packing their belongings ready to leave.
Going to the Army post with Monaltrie, Dusty had interviewed its commanding officer. Colonel Shieling had agreed to have Kenny in the post hospital, where he would be safe from Flores’ vengeance until well enough to travel. Although Dusty’s other request had been a mite unorthodox. Shieling went along with it. Acting on ‘information received’, Arnie Hogan was arrested as a suspected deserter; to be held for ‘investigation’ and ensure that he could pass no further information to the bandidos. In that, Hogan might have counted himself fortunate. The Kid had suggested a simpler and more permanent way of achieving the informer’s s
ilence, stating his willingness to attend to the matter.
After sundown, the wagon had been loaded and its team hitched. A protesting Kenny was taken to the post hospital and the party prepared to move out. Much to their disgust, Shad and Tex were told to return to the OD Connected and inform Ole Devil Hardin of Dusty’s plans. An empty wagon which looked much like the Schell’s Conestoga and eight horses had been borrowed from the owner of the livery barn, to be left at the house for a few days to induce the notion that Ma’s party were still there.
Leaving the Kid behind, Dusty led the others out of town in the darkness. The Kid remained at the house until morning. Then he made a circle of the town without finding signs that the bandidos had returned and set off after his companions.
With four days between them and Fort Sawyer, there had still been nothing to show that the Flores gang was following them. Not that Dusty took chances. While he and Mark rode out on the flanks, the Kid brought up the rear. Ma and April rode the wagon, leaving the handling of the small remuda to Jeanie and Colin.
Riding along at the rear of the ten spare saddle horses, Jeanie looked from the corner of her eye at Colin. Over the past four days, with the Texans away on the skyline most of the time, she had been thrown into the Scot’s company as they kept the remuda together. Looking at him, she felt the usual tangle of emotions which always filled her in his presence.
Jeanie could not explain her feelings. While part of her sought for Colin’s good points, another part saw only his failings. Sure he had acted bravely during the attack, but before that he had walked into a trap from which Dusty Fog and her mother had rescued him. Despite his outlandish clothes—he still wore his bonnet, shirt and kilt—he rode well. Yet he lacked knowledge of things any Texas boy learned afore his tenth birthday. Sniffing disdainfully, Jeanie recalled how she had had to show him how to hitch up the wagon team and overheard him asking Dusty’s advice about saddling the horse allocated to him. She did not take into account that the Texas range kak might differ from the saddles to which Colin was accustomed.
