A Horse Called Mogollon (Floating Outfit Book 3)

by J. T. Edson

‘What happened, ma’am?’ the old timer inquired, increasing his pace and reaching the Vicomtesse ahead of the woman.

  ‘Th—the—there has—been—a shooting!’ Beatrice answered brokenly, bosom heaving with emotion.

  ‘Land-sakes!’ the big woman intoned, showing concern as she went to Beatrice. ‘And it happened afore you, your ladyship?’

  ‘N—No!’ the Vicomtesse sniffed. ‘I was in the dining-room when it happened.’

  ‘Best take her back there, Annie,’ suggested the old timer and looked at the other people in the hall. ‘You folks stay put until I’ve seed what’s coming off.’

  Although the other new arrivals belonged to the committee which had organized the reception for the de Brioudes and were the town’s most influential citizens, they obeyed the request. Hovering in the main entrance, they talked amongst themselves in quiet, heated tones.

  ‘Come on, your ladyship,’ Mrs. Annie Logan, owner of the hotel, said and led Beatrice back to the dining room. ‘Lord’s a-mercy! That this should’ve happened today of all days. Not that it often happens. Fact being, we’ve never had a shooting here afore.’

  Still explaining that Kerrville was normally a most peaceful town, Mrs. Logan disappeared from the hall with Beatrice. Watching them go, the other citizens muttered threats against whoever had done the shooting if it should drive away the visitors. After a glance at the speakers, the old man went into the barroom. Keen eyes darted around, taking in the whole scene, then came to rest on Dusty.

  ‘Cap’n Fog, ain’t it?’

  ‘It is,’ Dusty confirmed.

  ‘Thought so,’ the old timer grunted. ‘I mind seeing you in Fort Sawyer when you, Cabrito and you, warn’t it, young feller?’ His gaze returned briefly to Colin but he continued without waiting for an answer, ‘went after the Flores boys. Must admit I was a mite surprised when I heard who you was, Cap’n, you being— Name’s Ned Franklin, I’m town constable. xvii What come off here?’

  ‘Those two fellers picked a fuss with me as soon as I walked in,’ Dusty explained, showing no annoyance at the implication behind Franklin’s unfinished comment. Few people could reconcile him with the legendary Dusty Fog at first sight. ‘I tried to end it without shooting, but they started to draw on me.’

  ‘Anybody else see it?’ Franklin inquired. ‘Which I don’t doubt—’

  ‘You have to ask,’ Dusty said and indicated Stagge. ‘This gent was here from the start.’

  ‘How about it, Mr. Nerton?’ Franklin asked.

  ‘It was like Cap’n Fog told you,’ Stagge replied. ‘Those two fellers came in earlier, asking the Vicomte for work. He hired them and fixed it so they could wait in the barroom until after the reception. I figured they’d got a mean look and came in to sort of keep an eye on them. Arnaud, the Vicomte, allowed I should make sure they stayed out of trouble. It all happened so fast. Cap’n Fog had hardly reached the bar before they started picking fuss with him.’

  ‘You know ’em, Cap’n?’ Franklin drawled.

  ‘I’ve never seen them before today,’ Dusty stated. ‘Way they acted, I’d say they was on the prod and looking for somebody to take out their meanness on.’

  ‘You was here with ’em for a spell, Mr. Nerton,’ Franklin remarked. ‘Still, they wasn’t likely to make fuss for a friend of their new boss.’

  ‘It’s not likely they would,’ Stagge agreed. ‘Look, I’m tolerable sorry that I couldn’t stop it—’

  ‘Nobody blames you, Mr. Nerton,’ Dusty assured him.

  ‘Nope, they don’t,’ Franklin went on. ‘Well, gents, I reckon we’d best go into the dining-room and talk things out. I’ll have them two fellers moved to the undertaker’s right now.’

  ‘How long’ve they been around town?’ Dusty inquired.

  ‘I ain’t seed ’em afore,’ the old timer declared. ‘Which means not more’n a day or so.’

  While answering Dusty’s question, Franklin was ushering the other men from the room. In the hall, the various influential citizens stopped their muttering. Stepping forward, the owner of the livery barn demanded to be told who had been responsible for the shooting. A low, menacing mutter rose from the people at the doors, but died away as Franklin indicated Dusty.

  ‘Couple of hard-cases on the prod picked a fuss with Captain Dusty Fog here, Henry,’ Franklin explained.

  ‘Cap’n Fog—!’ echoed the owner of the barn. ‘You’re Captain Fog?’

  ‘I am,’ Dusty admitted.

  ‘Which it’s right lucky they picked on him,’ Franklin continued. ‘’Cording to the Count’s amigo here, they was looking for trouble and might’ve started on somebody less able to take care of hisself.’

  Allowing a few seconds for his point to sink home, Franklin led the way to the dining room. Colin noticed a change come over the crowd. Much of their open hostility had gone. They still talked amongst themselves, but in a subdued and worried manner. At the door, Franklin stood aside to let the other participants enter. He then asked the undertaker, always a prominent member of a range-country community, to attend to the bodies and requested that Henry set up a hearing on the killings in his capacity as Kerrville’s justice-of-the-peace.

  On entering the dining room, Dusty found Beatrice seated at the table with the lace cloth. Standing protectively alongside the Vicomtesse, Mrs. Logan glared indignantly at the men.

  ‘Whoever made that trouble—!’ the buxom woman began grimly.

  ‘Cap’n Fog here didn’t have no choice but to start shooting, Annie,’ Franklin protested, indicating the small Texan.

  Chopping off her tirade, Mrs. Logan stared hard at Dusty. She had noticed the definite manner in which Franklin had named him and understood what it meant. If that insignificant cowhand was Captain Dusty Fog, he belonged to one of the most powerful and influential factions in Texas. More than that. Rumor claimed him to be Ole Devil Hardin’s favorite nephew. So he could not be abused or mean-mouthed, even if doing it might win favor from the de Brioudes. Wanting to change the subject, the hotel’s owner swung her eyes to Beatrice and found a good way of doing it.

  ‘Your necklace!’ Mrs. Logan shrieked, pointing. ‘It’s gone!’

  Up fluttered Beatrice’s hands towards her neck and she stared at Stagge in such a pointed manner that she drew the other occupants of the room’s attention to him. Seeing the interest and even suspicion that the words had aroused, he seemed disconcerted for a moment. Then he dipped his right hand into his jacket pocket and started to draw out a diamond necklace.

  ‘I’ve got it, Mrs. Logan,’ Stagge explained. ‘The catch broke and the Vicomtesse asked me to take it around town and see if I could get it fixed.’ As the end of the necklace emerged, it brought out a wad of ten-dollar bills which fell to the floor. All eyes followed the money as it dropped, then lifted to Stagge’s face. He bent and gathered it up, saying, ‘The Vicomte wanted me to buy some things for him while I was out.’

  ‘That is correct,’ confirmed de Brioude. ‘But we thought we had better leave doing it until after we were sure the two men meant no mischief.’

  Satisfied with the explanation, Franklin brought the hearing to order. Watching and listening to the old timer, Dusty felt sure that he knew his business. Despite Franklin’s proficiency as a peace officer, little could be learned about the two dead men. According to Henry, the pair had arrived soon after Tam Breda had left with the posse, paid cash to stable their horses and had slept in his hayloft. Questioned about his connection with the pair, Peet declared that they had met him on the street and asked if he thought that his boss would hire them. Against his better judgment, he had brought them to see de Brioude. Out of the kindness of his heart, the Vicomte had offered to employ them and arranged with Mrs. Logan—who had arrived to make sure that none of the other citizens were jumping the gun to meet the visitors—to let them wait in the barroom. Stagge stated that Dusty had been blameless of starting the fight and had only drawn when it was forced on him.

  Wanting to get the reception st
arted, Henry had exonerated Dusty. The hearing closed with a verdict that a couple of bullying troublemakers had picked on the wrong man for a victim and received no more than they deserved. Franklin promised that he would try to learn all he could about the pair.

  Declining an invitation to attend the reception, Dusty and Colin accompanied Franklin to the livery barn. De Brioude had not concluded any deal with the Scot, but promised he would visit the Schells’ camp and do so. A search of the dead men’s property yielded no clue as to their identity or reason for being in town. So Dusty and Colin made ready to start their return journey.

  ‘You’re not saying much, Dusty,’ Colin remarked after they had covered about two miles in near silence.

  ‘I'm thinking some, though,’ the small Texan replied, but did not mention the nature of his thoughts.

  What if the whole affair had been a plot to have Colin killed and obtain Mogollon for the de Brioudes?

  Highly unlikely on the face of it, yet there had been aspects which did not sit right with Dusty. Take ‘Nerton’ for starters. According to what Franklin said on the way to the barn, the gambler had become friendly with de Brioude in a card game and been invited on the hunting expedition. ‘Nerton’ fitted the general description of the hired killer who had been circumvented by Tam Breda in Fort Sawyer, as had the two hard-cases.

  That could be pure coincidence, for Mark’s description had not been too detailed. No matter who he might be, the de Brioudes trusted ‘Nerton’ sufficiently to give him a valuable necklace and a wad of cash money. They had produced a convincing reason for doing so, but there might be another explanation.

  What if they had planned to separate Colin from the companion they had believed to be an unimportant cowhand. Then when the Scott had heard the fight or shooting from the bar-room, he would dash in and could be killed ‘in self-defense’. Before independent witnesses arrived, ‘Nerton’ would have placed the money and necklace on Colin’s person and sworn it had been paid by the de Brioudes for Mogollon.

  ‘But why the necklace?’ Dusty asked himself and came up with a possible answer. ‘Colin said he’d told the de Brioudes why he wanted Mogollon. So they’d claim to have thrown it in as boot to help make up to her for losing the horse. That’d make them look nice folks come the hearing. Hell! It’s loco. Even if the de Brioudes reckoned they could get away with it, “Nerton’d” know that Tam Breda wouldn’t let them no matter what the hearing decided.’

  Dusty kept his theory to himself. If it should prove true, the situation would require the most delicate handling. Going by various important citizens’ reactions to the incident, the de Brioudes had made themselves very popular in Kerrville. For one reason or another, these same citizens would need a lot of convincing before they believed the couple capable of participating in such a murderous plot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Never too amiable or easy-tempered, Beatrice de Brioude was in a bitter mood as she rode along the narrow trail which led from Kerrville to the Renfrew ranch house. Her husband, Peet and Stagge knew the signs and waited to see which of them would be the victim of her anger. After spending the afternoon pretending to enjoy the reception, she wanted to lash out at somebody.

  ‘I’ll have my necklace back now,’ the Vicomtesse suddenly announced, thrusting out her left hand at Stagge. ‘And you can return Arnaud’s money.’

  ‘Sure,’ the hired killer replied, returning the items calmly. ‘You could’ve had them back sooner, only that’d’ve made a lie of the story we had to tell because you let those folks know I’d got ’em.’

  ‘And what difference would it have made if those yokels had known we lied?’ Beatrice demanded. ‘Or are you as frightened of them as you are of getting that horse for me?’

  ‘I’m not frightened,’ Stagge growled. ‘But I’m not loco either. Way things went today, you’ve got the folks in Kerrville eating out of your hand.’

  ‘What do I care about that?’ the Vicomtesse snorted.

  ‘If you’d listened to Hubie,’ de Brioude interrupted, ‘you’d know why you should care. As he says, if there is trouble when we take the horse, we want the people of the town on our side.’

  ‘It would seem that, despite his recommendations, our protector suffers from a very strong sense of caution,’ Beatrice mocked.

  ‘It’s kept me alive,’ Stagge pointed out. ‘Libby Schell’s got ten mesteneros, that Scotch feller, Dusty Fog, the Ysabel Kid and that big blond jasper who sided Tam Breda in Sawyer backing her. If you want me to lock horns against that bunch, I figure on having plenty of guns with me. Weasel’s not back with them yet and even after they come, I want the folks in Kerrville with us.’

  Just as Peet had suspected, the de Brioudes had refused to let his failure lessen their determination to obtain Mogollon. Called in for advice, Stagge had insisted that they need more men before making hostile moves against Libby Schell’s party. Although infatuated by Beatrice, Lieutenant Lebel would not permit his soldiers to be used for illicit purposes. With that in mind, Stagge had sent his third man to collect reinforcements from a small town where hard-cases of various kinds could usually be found. In addition to awaiting Weasel’s return, Stagge had suggested that the de Brioudes should try to ingratiate themselves with the citizens of Kerr County.

  The chance to do so had presented itself sooner than any of them could have hoped for. Reports of a large Mexican bandido gang marauding to the south had reached Kerrville. At Stagge’s instigation on hearing the news from Peet, de Brioude had offered the services of his military escort to Tam Breda. In need of extra firepower, for he had not yet organized his police detachment—and being unaware of Stagge’s crowd working for the Vicomte—Breda had been only too willing to accept. The ‘magnanimous’ action, taken with hints that they might be settling and bringing money into the county, had endeared the de Brioudes to the citizens. Sending Lebel off with Breda had also removed from the immediate vicinity two men who would have objected to the methods Stagge envisaged using to make the Schells part with Mogollon. Although she knew the plan, Beatrice still wanted to work out her spite.

  ‘Are you so afraid of some—greasers, don’t you call them?—and four boys that you need an army to help you?’

  ‘Schell’s greasers’d fight the devil for her. Nobody with sense’d sell them or that Scotch feller short. Much less the Ysabel Kid. Them’s have mostly wound up too dead to wish they hadn’t. That big blond jasper’s no slouch with his guns—and I saw just how good Dusty Fog is at first hand.’

  ‘You can’t blame me for that!’ Peet protested, sensing that Stagge was trying to turn the blame for the fiasco in Kerrville on to him. ‘I’d always heard Dusty Fog was as big as a house. He looked like two cents’ worth of nothing; warn’t even riding that big paint he’s been using since the end of the War.’

  ‘I knew there was something about him as soon as I laid eyes on him,’ de Brioude insisted. ‘But the plan had been made—’

  ‘Talking about that,’ Stagge interrupted. ‘Let’s get that bill-of-sale burned right now. If it got into the wrong hands—’

  ‘Caution again, Hubie?’ Beatrice purred.

  ‘Listen, lady,’ Stagge spat back, showing anger for the first time. ‘You don’t have any notion of what kind of folks you’re fooling with. They’re not dull-witted yokels. Even old Franklin’s smart enough to start thinking things and coming up with the right answers if he should lay hands on that damned paper. Sure, Royce and Coxin haven’t been seen with us around this way. But they were in Fort Sawyer. Give Franklin, Breda or Dusty Fog that much of a head start and they might want to know other things.’

  ‘Such as?’ asked de Brioude.

  ‘Why a French count and his wife’d have a feller like me trailing along,’ the killer replied, and read from the de Brioudes’ expressions that he had scored a point. ‘They’ll start thinking about that feller in Fort Sawyer being French—’

  ‘There was no need for you to go after him,’ de Brioude objected su
llenly.

  ‘We all know that—now,’ Stagge answered. ‘Arguing about whose idea doing it was won’t get us any place. The thing is that you want Mogollon—’

  ‘And you had a so-clever idea to get it this afternoon,’ Beatrice mocked. ‘All we had to do was lure them to the hotel and send the cowhand into the bar-room where your men would goad him into drawing a gun and shoot him, then kill Farquharson when he came to investigate.’

  ‘It would’ve worked if that short-growed son-of-a-bitch had been what he looked instead of Dusty Fog,’ Stagge declared. ‘Anyways, it cost me more than it did you. I lost two good men. I even had to warn Fog when it looked like Coxin was going to ask me for help. Fog’d got the upper hand by then. There was no other way.’

  ‘You didn’t know he was Dusty Fog either, when we come to tell you that him and the Scotch feller was coming,’ Peet pointed out, determined to exculpate himself. ‘Or if you did, you never let on about it while we was watching ’em go by through the window.’

  ‘Nobody’s blaming you, Abe,’ de Brioude said soothingly. ‘Here you are, Hubie.’

  A bitter, challenging sneer twisted at Stagge’s lips. Instead of speaking, he took the sheet of paper offered by the de Brioude and glanced at its message.

  I, the undersigned, have this day sold one chestnut stallion called Mogollon to the Vicomte de Brioude for the sum of two hundred and fifty dollars and, as boot for the deal have been given one diamond necklace by the Vicomtess de Brioude as a wedding present for my fiancée. The sale, being witnessed by Abel Peet.

  Perhaps an Eastern lawyer might have quibbled as to the document’s legality, but Stagge felt certain that it would have been accepted by the influential citizens of Kerrville in their eagerness to please the de Brioudes. He also concluded that the sooner such a damning piece of evidence was destroyed, the safer he would feel. Producing and lighting a match, he set fire to the paper. When it was reduced to ashes, he discarded the remains with a sense of relief.

  Dusty Fog had come close to the truth in his theorizing. The whole incident had been a plot to murder Colin and gain possession of Mogollon. Before any witnesses could reach the barroom, Stagge was to have placed the money and necklace in the Scot’s sporran. Then the de Brioudes were to have claimed that Colin had sold Mogollon to them, been paid, but left the dining room and was killed before he had signed the bill-of-sale.