Waco 3

by J. T. Edson

  The Ranger took the blood-covered coat and without a word slipped it on; it was a fair fit and he stood waiting for Waco’s next orders. The young Texan looked at the others, then stepped forward, handing the Judge his photographs of the body.

  ‘Gadsby was stood here,’ Waco said, putting the other Ranger in position. ‘I think he was facing with his left to the house, like this.’ Waco turned the other man round into position. ‘Now that bullet hit here,’ Waco indicated the small hole in the right breast, then pointed to the large tear at the left side. ‘And came out down here, ending in the gatepost, here. Any of you gents got a piece of string on you?’

  ‘Here you are, boy,’ the Judge pulled a long length of string from his pocket, handing it over. He was looking more interested now, although the marshal and the deputy were obviously puzzled by all this.

  ‘Hold this end on the bullet hole in the post, Brad,’ Waco ordered, and Kinross, still looking puzzled, did so. ‘Now gents, bullets do strange things, but they always go through the air in near enough a straight line,’ Waco went on, running the line through his hands and up to the bullet hole at the left side, then across the body to the other hole and moving back, keeping the cord in a straight line. Before he’d taken many steps back his arms were stretched above his head and pointing the cord towards the top of the slope.

  For a moment none of the men spoke, then the marshal growled, ‘Gadsby could have been stood the other way round.’

  ‘And the bullet went down, through the post without making a mark on the other side; flew round Gadsby’s body, down in the right and out again?’ Waco’s contempt was obvious to see.

  The Judge studied the situation, then looked up at the top of the rim and asked, ‘What did you find up there?’

  ‘Somebody knelt there, likely the killer. Couldn’t tell much from the sign, it wasn’t clear enough to make out boot shape or anything, being on short grass. But from the length of the stride I made it smaller than Brad and taller than Sarah.’

  ‘About five foot seven or eight them?’ the Judge inquired; he’d hunted often enough to know something about the reading of sign.

  ‘About that,’ Waco agreed. ‘Brad, go up to the house and get a saw or a hammer and chisel, the bullet’s still in there and I want it out.’

  The other men stood around, silent and all busy with their own thoughts as the Rangers worked carefully to dig out the bullet which had killed Captain Gadsby. It took only a short time and Brad Kinross, his face relaxed and showing relief, held out a piece of lead. Apart from some mushrooming of the head the bullet was intact and from one glance is was obviously not fired from a revolver.

  ‘Looks like a rifle bullet,’ the marshal said.

  ‘That figgers,’ the Judge growled. ‘I never saw a revolver that’d carry from the top of that rim there, go clear through a man and bury into a wood post. What sort of rifle do you have, Brad?’

  ‘A Winchester Centennial, but it’s in the gunsmith’s and has been for three days now. There’s a couple of Winchester 73s in the house and a Ballard.’

  ‘That lets you out then,’ the Judge looked relieved. ‘This came from a high-powered rifle. A .45.70 at least.’

  ‘That’s the Army caliber,’ the deputy sheriff remarked. ‘Sure, but that bunch there are cavalry. They use the Springfield carbine and that wouldn’t have the range,’ Waco pointed out, then he looked at Brad. ‘Now why in hell’s name did you say you’d shot him?’

  ‘I was coming back from town when I thought I heard a shot. I came round the corner there and saw Sarah standing, looking down at Gadsby. Then she looked up and saw me; she turned and ran back into the house. I thought she’d done it.’

  ‘Had you got your gun in your hand when you came round the corner?’ Waco asked.

  ‘Sure, I didn’t know what I might run into and wasn’t taking any chances.’

  ‘So Sarah thought you’d killed him and you thought she’d done it. She ran out the back of the house, went to the stage depot and lit out of town so folk would blame her, you stayed here and tried to say you’d done it.’

  Brad Kinross looked at the other men around him. He’d known the Judge, the marshal and the deputy sheriff most of his life and read friendship and belief in their faces.

  ‘Never thought you’d done it at all, Brad,’ the marshal stated. ‘I thought I should be the one to hold you though.’ At that moment, Billy Speed and a pretty, red-haired girl came round the corner riding their horses at a good speed. The girl slid down from her horse and ran up to Brad, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him.

  ‘Take her up to the house, Brad,’ Waco suggested.

  ‘Judge, I’d like you to come along and see the Colonel, and explain to him what you’ve just seen.’

  ‘Certainly I’ll come. The sooner this thing is cleared up the better. Who did kill Gadsby?’

  ‘That I don’t know,’ Waco replied.

  ‘I’d take it as a favor if you’d stay on and try to find out. From what I’ve just seen of you, I think you could.’ The Judge and Waco walked side by side on to Grand Rock’s main street and saw Pete Glendon coming towards them. He stopped and told Waco that the tracks of the horse had ended upon the main trail and he’d not been able to follow them anymore, nor get any clear imprint on which he might be able to locate the horse. Waco was expecting this and was not unduly bothered about it. There might, or might not, be a chance of finding the man who’d killed Gadsby, but with Brad Kinross in the clear, Waco was not too worried; it now came under the jurisdiction of the local law or the Army.

  The Judge led the way, not to the fort but to a fair-sized, white painted, house near the gates. On the post-box at the end of the path leading to the door was painted, “Col. Elvin J. T. Stacey, 19th United States Cavalry.”

  Knocking on the door the Judge remarked, ‘More likely to find the Colonel here than at the fort at this time of the day.’

  The door was opened by a large, fat and smiling negress who apparently knew the Judge, for she stepped aside, ‘Come in, Judge, come right on in.’

  The Judge and Waco entered the hall and were taken to the sitting room, waved inside and left. The room interested Waco, it reminded him of Ole Devil Hardin’s study back in the Rio Hondo country of Texas. Both were alike in the air of masculine comfort and lack of feminine frills. The walls were decorated with paintings of battle scenes and animal heads. On the floor was a buffalo hide rug which was met by the skin of a large silver tip grizzly. Over the fireplace a pair of crossed guidons with holes in them which might have been caused by hostile bullets. Waco’s eyes went to the stand of arms in the corner; there was a fine looking Springfield officer’s model rifle, a couple of Winchesters, a Sharps and four double-barreled guns. On a small table near where Waco was standing a copy of the Army and Navy Journal lay, open in the center of the correspondence page. Waco was just about to pick it up and read the letters when the door at the other end of the room opened and a tall, black haired, beautiful woman came in. Although she now wore a stylish, though rather severe-looking dress instead of a riding habit Waco recognized her.

  ‘Afternoon, Laura,’ the Judge said, holding out his hand. ‘We came round to see Elvin but he’s still across at the fort.’

  ‘Yes,’ the woman’s voice was cool, impersonal and cultured. ‘He’s rather busy arranging for Dane Gadsby’s funeral.’ Her eyes flickered at Waco, leaving him feeling very young and inexperienced. ‘I think we’ve met somewhere.’

  ‘Came together’d be a better way of putting it, ma’am,’ Waco replied.

  ‘Of course. You’re the young man I bumped into outside the livery barn. I’m sorry about that. I was rather engrossed and didn’t see you coming.’

  ‘This’s one of the Arizona Rangers; Waco’s his name,’ the Judge remarked. ‘He’s in charge of investigating Gadsby’s death.’

  ‘Really, I expected a much older man. So you are the one who refused to hand over his prisoner to my husband?’

 
‘Yes, ma’am. I’m surely sorry but I had my orders—’

  ‘And you carried them out. Never apologize for doing your duty, young man. My husband was rather impressed by your action. He thinks you’d make a good soldier.’

  ‘Not unless I rode under the Stars and Bars, ma’am.’

  The woman smiled, her face lighting up as she looked at him. She held out her hand to him, her grip firm and strong. Somehow, even though she was a really beautiful woman, Waco did not regard her as such. He felt that she would never really be at home in the company of other women but would prefer to be around men.

  ‘What did you wish to see Elvin about, Charles?’

  ‘Like we said, Gadsby’s killing, ma’am,’ Waco put in, speaking bluntly and watching her face all the time.

  ‘A tragic ending to a career. One of your men is under suspicion of the killing, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, that’s why I want to see your husband.’

  ‘What could he do to help you?’

  ‘Gadsby was one of his men and I don’t know how the Army stand together. I’d like him to place the town off limits until we’ve finished with the matter. It’ll save some trouble and friction with the local folks,’ Waco replied. ‘Remember when an officer of the 14th Infantry got killed in a gunfight in Fort Worth. The troopers in town got into fights and trouble—’

  ‘They were only infantry,’ Laura Stacey answered. ‘Not the 19th Cavalry. We’ve quite a tradition behind us and one of the things the 19th can say is that we’ve never made trouble for any civilians.’

  ‘You know some about the regiment, ma’am?’ Waco asked, glancing at the nearest picture which depicted a cavalry charge on a Confederate artillery battery.

  ‘I should, my father organized and commanded it. That is the 19th’s charge on the 2nd Virginia Artillery at the battle of Shell Creek. It was that charge which saved the day and brought victory out of what could easily have been defeat.’

  ‘Sounds like you know the regiment real well, ma’am.’

  ‘Know it. Laura is the 19th Cavalry,’ the Judge put in. ‘I bet she can tell you every action they ever fought in and damned near every man who ever served with the regiment since it started.’

  ‘You exaggerate, Charles.’ Laura Stacey showed some pride at the Judge’s words. ‘I have been with the 19th, except when they were in the field, ever since it was formed. We have a great tradition, Ranger. That is what makes a truly great regiment, tradition, honor—’

  ‘And no scandal.’

  Laura Stacey looked at the Judge, and there was annoyance in her eyes. ‘There has never been any breath of scandal attached to the 19th Cavalry and never will.’

  At that moment the Negro maid looked in and asked Laura to go to the kitchen with her to check over some supplies which had just arrived from the local store. The Judge watched Laura sweep from the room and then turned back to Waco, and smiling, said:

  ‘She’s a great one for the regiment, Laura is.’ He took a seat in one of the chairs. ‘Like she says, she was born to it. They reckon the only reason she married Stacey was because he was the one most likely to get the promotion to Colonel. She shoved him on to the top. Only time you’ll ever see her rattled is if there’s something wrong with the regiment.’

  Waco went to the small table and took up the Army and Navy Journal. He’d often read it in Texas and found the letters the most interesting part. One caught his eye straight away.

  ‘Better than Singleshot.’

  ‘Sirs.’

  ‘I would like to take up the issue of single shot or repeating rifles.’ Waco grinned, the controversy over whether the Army should be issued with repeating or single shot arms was one which had raged since before the Civil War. The official policy being that a single shot arm was stronger, more reliable and that a repeater would need too much time spent in keeping it clean, and would also tend to make the user waste ammunition. ‘I understand the official policy and would like to suggest that if no repeating arm is found which is satisfactory then a double-barreled rifle would be the answer. I have recently purchased such a rifle from Colt. In caliber it is .45.70. It is as easy to care for and far easier to reload than the Springfield carbine. Nor in the time I have used it have I ever had a cartridge case jam in the breech. Had George Custer’s command been armed with double-barreled rifles at the Battle of Little Bighorn things might have come far different.’

  Waco read through the letter and, at the end, the signature of the sender. He was a thoughtful young man as he glanced at the stand of arms in the corner. Turning, he said, ‘I’d best go and see if Cap’n Mosehan’s arrived yet. If he’s here I’ll fetch him round.’

  The Judge showed Waco out and returned to the sitting room. He did not see the young man head, not for the Kinross place, but for the far side of the fort where, in a dry-wash, the cavalry had fixed up a target range. On reaching this, Waco grubbed around until he found what he was looking for. He slipped the thing into his pocket and headed for town, still not going to the Kinross house, but to the livery barn.

  The old-timer who’d been there when Waco brought his horse in was still on duty. He came across and watched as Waco stroked the neck of the big paint.

  ~*~

  ‘Fine hoss, Ranger,’ he said.

  That gave Waco the chance he’d been waiting for. Livery barn staff were as talkative as barbers and the old man was full of the news and views of the town. He tried to pump Waco about the killing and appeared to think that even if Brad Kinross shot Gadsby he was only doing something which should have been done much sooner.

  Waco was a capable talker, one who knew how to steer a conversation any way he wanted it to go without arousing the other’s suspicions. He brought the talk round to guns, then shooting for sport.

  ‘Any chance of getting some bird shooting round here, Colonel?’ he asked.

  ‘You mean with a scattergun?’

  ‘Why sure, I did some wing shooting back in Texas and reckon it’s real good for keeping the sighting eye in. Ain’t seed much out here to shoot though.’

  ‘There’s plenty on the range, prairie chicken and turkey for two. You saw Mrs. Stacey this morning. She goes out most days with a shotgun after birds. Today was the first time she didn’t bring any back. Must have been them newfangled sights on the gun she’d got with her.’

  ‘Sights. I thought all shotguns had sights.’

  ‘These were rifle sights, set on the wrist of the stock. Pity, it was a real, fine double-barreled gun. Shouldn’t never have tried rifle sights on it.’

  ‘Could you tell that gun agin? Waco asked, his voice showing none of the excitement he felt. ‘See, I’m borrowing a gun from the Colonel and I surely don’t want that one.’ The old-timer snorted. ‘Surely I could tell it again. Real new-looking gun, fine worked too, fancy checkered grip. Only that sight on the wrist spoils it.’

  ‘I’ll remember that, Colonel. I’d best get round to see Brad. See you around, Colonel.’

  Waco went round to the Kinross house as fast as he could make it. One of the other Rangers was leading a steaming, sweating horse. He jerked his thumb to the house and remarked, ‘Cap’n Bert’s there and waiting for you.’ Going up the path Waco knocked on the door and entered. Mosehan was seated at the table, his face showing the strain of riding a four-horse relay from Tucson, covering ground fast to get here. He looked up at Waco, then at Brad Kinross and Doc Leroy who were seated in the room.

  ‘What do you know, Waco?’ Mosehan asked.

  ‘Tell you on the way to see a man,’ Waco replied. ‘If you feel like walking, Cap’n. You’re not getting any younger.’

  ‘Younger,’ Mosehan snorted. ‘What do you think I am, old?’

  They walked through the streets and Waco told Mosehan all he suspected as they walked. At the Stacey house the colored maid let them in and showed them to the sitting room again. Colonel Stacey, his wife and the Judge were seated round the table; the Colonel rose as Waco came in. Stacey was cordial to
Waco and polite when the young Texan introduced Mosehan.

  ‘What do you intend doing about that man of yours, Mosehan?’ Stacey asked.

  ‘Nothing. Brad is innocent.’

  Stacey looked at Mosehan for a time, then asked, ‘Isn’t that for a court to decide?’

  ‘Not unless the Judge wants the town in trouble for false arrest. Waco here has proved Kinross’ innocence; right, Judge?’

  That’s right. I’ll show you what he means if you want to come down there and see for yourself, Elvin.’

  ‘Who did the killing then?’ Stacey snapped. ‘Or don’t you know?’

  ‘The boy here thinks he knows,’ Mosehan answered. ‘He’s one of my best men, the one who caught Massey after he’d tried to murder Chief Victorio. Reckon he’d best tell you what he told me on the way here.’

  Stacey looked at Waco with fresh respect; he’d heard of the murder attempt on the life of the old Apache chief, Victorio, when the chief came in to sign the peace treaty. He glanced at his wife, who sat erect in her chair, face showing no expression at all, but her hands clenched together.

  ‘Brad Kinross didn’t kill Gadsby. I proved that to the Judge and I’ll go and prove it to you, Colonel. Brad confessed because he thought Sarah, his sister, killed him. Sarah thought Brad’d done it and she took a stage out of town. That made Brad sure she’d done it. She went because she thought the suspicion would fall on her rather than him.

  ‘What neither knew was that Gadsby was dead before either of them came near him. I’m going to talk plain, Colonel, with all respect to Mrs. Stacey, and I’m going to say things that neither of you is going to like, but they are true and need to be said. So let the cards fall as they’re played. One of my friends is in trouble. This thing could ruin all Cap’n Mosehan’s worked for, it will give the bunch who hate the Rangers and want to get rid of them something to work on. I’m not having a killing hanging over Brad Kinross.’

  ‘We’ll accept that,’ Stacey answered. ‘Carry on, no matter how unpleasant.’

  ‘First, Gadsby was a woman-chasing, no-good trouble causer and to hell with speaking well of the dead. He’d been thrown out of every Army job he held for the same thing. He wasn’t just a woman chaser, he was a vicious, callous brute who treated women worse than dogs. You all know about Gadsby’s Conquests, how he flaunted them before the other members of his mess. This time the girl he chose for his conquest was sensible enough to get out before it was too late. That hurt his vanity and he started to chase her. She’d got a brother who was tough, capable and handy. He told Gadsby to stay away from her and Gadsby sent two troopers to work Brad over. That was why Brad Kinross said he’d kill Gadsby if he didn’t stay away from Sarah.’