The Floating Outfit 35

by J. T. Edson

  Big and bulky, the blacksmith had also risen from concealment in the loft. The ambush had been planned. That was obvious from the way the men took aim at and shot le Blanc, although he did so too late to save Diebitch. In echo to the blacksmith’s revolver, Dusty’s left hand Colt lined and barked. Hit in the body, Pigeons’ companion screamed, spun around, toppled over the bales and crashed to the floor below.

  In the tack-room, Rossi and another man gripped their revolvers and waited to cut in on the fight which would determine who ran Hell. So interested were they in what was going on between Basmanov and Lampart that they failed to notice the face which peered in through the window. On seeing the Russian’s bid fail, Rossi prepared to throw open the door leading into the stable.

  Having reached the barn undetected, Waco saw enough through the window to know that he must act fast. Kicking open the outside door as he had learned to do from Dusty, he plunged into the tack-room. The two men heard the crash and spun around with their weapons thrusting in the youngster’s direction. Left, right, left, right, flame erupted from the muzzles of Waco’s Army Colts. Rossi died instantly, a bullet severing his jugular vein. Hit in the shoulder, the second man dropped his gun and stumbled into the stable. Being unarmed did not save him. Turning fast, Lampart shot him in the head.

  While that was happening, the Kid raced in through the back doors. Bounding along the gap between two lots of stalls, he appeared before another pair of Basmanov’s supporters as they came from one of the storerooms. Seeing the dark-faced savage, they forgot their intention of shooting Lampart and tried to turn their guns on the Kid. Lead hissed by him, calling for an immediate response. Working his Winchester’s lever at its fastest possible speed, he poured out eight bullets in an arc that encompassed the two men’s torsos. Both went down, torn to doll-rags by the tempest of flying lead.

  No more men appeared. The bloody battle for mastery of the town had come to an end. Horses squealed, snorted, reared and kicked at their stalls in fright as the acrid powder smoke wafted away.

  ‘See to the horses—Comanch’, Matt,’ Dusty ordered, having to make an effort to prevent himself using their real names. Looking at le Blanc, he went on, ‘Jean’s cashed in.’

  ‘He’s been avenged,’ Lampart answered and started to go around Basmanov’s party to check on their condition. ‘And he’ll have plenty of company; they’re all dead too.’

  People came pouring into the barn. Outlaws went to help the Kid and Waco calm down the horses. Townsmen studied the bodies and exchanged glances. Those who had supported Lampart showed their satisfaction. On other faces, anxiety and concern left their marks. Those were the emotions of Basmanov’s less active partisans, who wondered what the future held for them on account of it. Already the fence sitters were beaming their approval at the mayor. However, Lampart ignored all of them. After ordering the jeweler to put out the fire in the office’s stove and directing Youseman to give le Blanc the best possible funeral, he apologized to such outlaws as were present for disturbing their horses. Then he called the three Texans to him, thanked them for their support and asked them to accompany him to his home.

  On the street, the men found Giselle, Red, Juanita and Emma waiting. The blonde held a bottle of champagne and declared that the victory called for a celebration. Giving his agreement, Lampart took them to his house and established them comfortably in the sitting room. With the drinks served and toasts to their continued success drunk, Dusty decided to obtain some information.

  ‘How did you know when to set the fire off, Simmy?’ the small Texan asked. ‘If you’d done it too early, we might none of us been around to back your play.’

  ‘I waited until I saw Comanche and Matt taking the young ladies back to the saloon. Emma’s maid had already drawn the curtains in her bedroom, which meant you and she were up and about. So I made my arrangements, knowing your brother and Comanche would be waiting for you.’

  ‘How’d you get in and light the fire?’ Waco inquired. ‘You couldn’t’ve just touched her off and got out, somebody’d likely’ve seen you.’

  ‘It’s a trick I learned, making a fire start at a given moment. I won’t say more than that, a magician is under oath not to divulge the nature of his secrets. I went there, picked the office because it was empty, made my arrangements and came back to await results.’

  ‘You knew Basmanov’d see the smoke and guess what your game was,’ Dusty drawled. ‘But you counted on him wanting a showdown, gathering his stoutest sidekicks and waiting for you to come.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Lampart admitted. ‘I also knew that, with you helping me, I had the edge. None of them could even come close to matching your gun skill.’

  ‘That’s for sure,’ Waco put in. ‘They didn’t have the sense to watch the outside windows.’

  ‘All went off perfectly,’ Lampart declared, showing no hint of regret over le Blanc’s death. ‘It’s my town now.’

  ‘Your town, Simmy?’ Dusty queried, seeing Emma throw him a glance pregnant with meaning.

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ Lampart amended. ‘It’s our town now, Ed.’

  ‘I said you could count on Simmy to do the right thing, Ed,’ Emma remarked.

  Chapter Fourteen – Take Your Claws Off My Man

  In all his eventful young life, Dusty Fog had never received a shock to equal that which greeted him as he entered the mayor’s office towards sundown on the day after the gun battle. Fortunately, Lampart had his back to the door and did not see the small Texan’s reaction to the sight of the woman who was placing a bulky set of saddlebags into one of the deposit boxes. Straightening up and closing the lid, she stared in Dusty’s direction. At first surprise played on her strikingly beautiful features, to be replaced almost immediately by an expression which denoted understanding.

  Black hair flowed from beneath the brim of a gray Stetson hat with a band decorated by silver conchas. She wore a fringed buckskin jacket, open down its front to exhibit a dark grey shirt tucked into figure-hugging black riding breeches. High-heeled boots with spurs attached graced her feet. The clothes served to display a body every bit as voluptuously curvaceous as Emma Nene’s. Emphasizing the full contours of her hips, a gunbelt slanted down with the tip of its holster tied to her magnificently molded right thigh. In the holster, carefully positioned to facilitate a fast draw, rode what looked like a wooden-handled Colt Model 1851 Navy revolver.

  Without the need for closer examination, Dusty knew the woman’s gun to be a five-shot copy of the Navy Colt manufactured by the now-defunct Manhattan Firearms Company. Going by her display of emotion on his arrival, she could identify him despite his clothes, the beard and moustache. She had been a blonde on their two previous meetings, but Dusty found no difficulty in recognizing the famous lady outlaw, Belle Starr.

  ‘Ed!’ Belle greeted, her voice a pleasant, warmly inviting Southern drawl. ‘I just might have known I’d find you here, after all the things I’ve been reading about you-all in the Texas State Gazette.’

  ‘You know each other?’ Lampart inquired, bringing his gaze from its contemplation of Belle’s physique.

  There was a hint of suspicion in the mayor’s voice and Dusty could figure out what had caused it. Lampart had not forgotten how ‘Ed Caxton’ had claimed to have led a law-abiding life, until committing the robbery which had resulted in him fleeing for safety to Hell. So Lampart was wondering how he could have made the acquaintance of such a prominent member of outlaw society.

  ‘Why sure,’ Dusty agreed, thinking fast. ‘It was while we were with the Army up in the Indian Nations. Me and the boys got sent with a patrol to search for Miss Belle at her pappy’s place.’

  ‘Why they just did me the biggest favor in my whole life,’ Belle went on. ‘The three of them were sent to search the barn and Comanche found my hiding place. But Ed said for me to be covered up again and they never let on where I was to that mean old officer.’

  In view of her close relationship with Mark Counter, 23
Dusty had not expected Belle to betray him. She had recognized him immediately, recollected the story of the robbery in the newspapers and guessed what was happening. No matter why she had come to Hell, it seemed that she was willing to play along with the small Texan’s game.

  ‘You paid us back in Dallas,’ Dusty pointed out, feeling that so short an acquaintance would not account for her recognizing him. ‘If you hadn’t loaned me that five hundred dollars, I might’ve had to kill some of the gambling man’s sidekicks to stop them pestering me for it.’

  ‘I had my money’s worth,’ Belle claimed, darting an arch smile at Lampart. She too felt that the situation needed a little expanding. ‘Ed’s quite a man, you know, Simmy. Although I don’t suppose you could know, not that way.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Lampart agreed stiffly and looked at Dusty, ‘Miss Starr—’

  ‘I’ve already said you can call me “Belle”,’ the girl interrupted.

  ‘Belle has just arrived, Ed,’ the mayor went on. ‘I’ve explained the rules of the town and she agrees to them.’

  ‘That figures,’ Dusty drawled, glancing at the girl’s gunbelt. ‘Did you have trouble getting here, Belle?’

  ‘None. But I was just a teensy mite worried when the guide said I’d have to hand over my guns. He was telling the truth about me getting them back after I’d talked to the mayor.’

  ‘Why’d you need to come?’ Dusty challenged, knowing some such comment would be expected by Lampart.

  ‘Belle had heard of our community,’ the mayor injected, just a shade too quickly. ‘And, with the Indian Nations being somewhat disturbed—’

  ‘Disturbed!’ Belle ejaculated. ‘Land-sakes a-mercy, Ed, it’s hotter than a two dollar pistol up there right now. So I concluded I’d better stay away from home for a spell. Of course I’d heard of Hell and decided to take a look at it.’

  ‘Seeing’s how Belle’s such an old friend of mine,’ Dusty remarked to the mayor, ‘I reckon we can forget her contribution to the Civic Improvement Fund.’

  ‘Well, I admit a twentieth of my money does seem a lot,’ Belle purred, glancing at the stack of bills which lay alongside the white-handled Peacemaker on the desk. ‘But I shouldn’t have any special favors. It just wouldn’t be fitting, Ed.’

  ‘A twentieth’s a whole heap of money,’ Dusty said coldly. ‘Has Simmy introduced you to his wife, Belle?’

  ‘I was going to, after we’d concluded our business,’ the mayor declared, with an annoyed glare at the small Texan.

  ‘If she’s busy, it can wait her convenience, Simmy,’ Belle smiled. ‘Why don’t you show me to the hotel, Ed. I’m just dying to hear all about that robbery you and the boys pulled.’

  Although he threw a scowl at Dusty, Lampart raised no objections. Belle locked her box and dropped the keys into a jacket pocket. Then she and Dusty left the office. Giselle peered around the curtain at the back end of the hall, but withdrew without coming to be introduced. On emerging from the mayor’s house, Dusty became aware of somebody watching him. Looking at the saloon, he saw two of the girls standing on the first floor’s verandah. They were displaying considerable interest in Belle and himself. Even as he watched, one of them darted into the building. Dusty did not need much thought to figure out where she was going. So he concluded that he had better get Belle off the street before Emma came to investigate.

  ‘What’s the game, Dusty?’ Belle asked as he started her moving away from the saloon. ‘I nearly had a fit when you walked in. Luckily I remembered that story in the paper and came up with the right answer—or some of it.’

  ‘Thanks for not saying who I am,’ Dusty replied. ‘I hoped you wouldn’t.’

  ‘Now play fair with me,’ Belle suggested. ‘I’m here on business and I’d like to know where I—’

  ‘Mr. Caxton,’ called a voice and Dusty saw the jeweler waddling across the street in his direction. ‘I was hoping to see you. I’ve had the clasp on that necklace repaired and it’s ready for you.’

  ‘Gracias,’ Dusty answered. ‘I’ll come around later and—’

  ‘Now who would you be buying a necklace for, Ed?’ Belle challenged, a merry gleam dancing in her eyes. ‘Come on. I’m dying to see it.’

  ‘Maybe you should go and get a room at the hotel,’ Dusty told her.

  ‘There’s time for that later,’ Belle insisted. ‘Come on.’

  So far, Dusty observed as he made for the jeweler’s shop, Emma had not made an appearance. The delay would allow her time to do so before he could get Belle inside the hotel. So, in the interests of peace and quiet, he figured he had best take the lady outlaw out of the blonde’s sight. They entered the shop without Emma having emerged from the Honest Man. Passing around the end of the counter, the owner disappeared into a back room. He seemed to take an exceptionally long time before he returned carrying a magnificent diamond necklace. Dusty could hear significant sounds from the street, but hoped he might be wrong about their meaning. From what he could see through the window, he doubted if he was.

  ‘My!’ Belle breathed, laying a hand on Dusty’s sleeve. ‘Now isn’t that the sweetest lil ole trinket you ever did see?’

  The front door flew open and a furious feminine voice hissed, ‘Take your claws off my man!’

  Turning with the speed of a wildcat preparing to defend itself, Belle confronted Emma. The blonde was dressed ready for her night’s work and a couple of rings with sizeable stones flashed on her fingers. Ignoring the people who gathered behind her, Emma looked Belle over from head to toe. The saloon girls had spread the word and a number of men and women waited to see what would develop.

  ‘Easy, Emma,’ Dusty said soothingly. ‘I was just taking Miss Starr down to the hotel.’

  ‘Why, Ed,’ Belle purred. ‘You’ve never called me “Miss Starr” before.’

  Annoyance bit at Dusty. Instead of Belle letting him handle things, she seemed set on provoking trouble. Dull red flooded into Emma’s cheeks and she bunched her right hand to form a capable-looking fist.

  ‘He won’t do it ag—!’ the blonde began, drawing back her arm.

  Out flashed Belle’s Manhattan, its hammer clicking back and muzzle pointing at Emma’s heaving bosom. Poised to attack, the protruding stone of a ring glinting evilly on her clenched fist, the blonde stood very still.

  ‘You try to ram that blazer into my face,’ Belle threatened, ‘and I’ll put a window in your apples.’

  ‘I can soon enough take the rings off!’ Emma spat back, making a move as if to do so.

  ‘Please ladies,’ the jeweler implored. ‘No fighting in here.’

  ‘Let it drop, both’ of you!’ Dusty ordered.

  ‘If you say so, Ed,’ Belle replied. ‘What do folks do for entertainment around here, Mr. Jewelry-Man?’

  ‘G—Go to the Honest Man Saloon,’ the shop’s owner replied.

  ‘You put your face inside it,’ Emma promised grimly, ‘and I’ll throw you right back out.’

  ‘Will you be there tonight, Ed?’ Belle inquired.

  ‘That won’t matter to you,’ Emma declared before Dusty could reply. ‘What I said goes. If you show your face in my place tonight, gun or no gun, I’ll make you wish you’d hid in some other brothel instead of coming here.’

  ‘That’s big talk for a fat old harridan,’ Belle jeered, conscious that the exchange had an audience. ‘I’ll be there tonight. Without my gun and, to give you a chance, wearing moccasins. That’ll make us even, for all your blazers and long talons.’

  With that, Belle holstered the Manhattan and pushed by Emma to leave the building. For a moment, the blonde appeared to be on the verge of hurling herself after the lady outlaw. Then, glancing at her rings and fingernails, Emma stalked out of the door. She did not even look at Dusty before departing.

  ‘Whoo!’ ejaculated the jeweler and ran the tip of his tongue across his lips. ‘It should be something to see at the Honest Man tonight, Mr. Caxton.’

  ‘Likely,’ Dusty admitted absently, wonde
ring why Belle had taken such an attitude.

  ‘How about the necklace?’ the man asked as Dusty turned from the counter.

  ‘I reckon I’d best take it with me,’ the small Texan decided, thinking that it might prove useful as a peace offering to Emma.

  Apparently, practically everybody in town shared the jeweler’s summation. Dusty had never seen such a crowd as he found in the Honest Man Saloon on his arrival at nine o’clock. There were people present he would never have expected to find in a saloon. Giselle sat with Lampart at Emma’s table. Other townsmen had also brought their wives. The madam of the brothel was there, accompanied by her whole staff. So far, neither Emma nor Belle had made an appearance. Dusty figured that they soon would.

  Despite his efforts, Dusty had failed to change either of their minds. Although delighted with the necklace, Emma had stated the only way she would forget the incident was if Belle made a public apology and never entered the saloon. Due to the interest her arrival had aroused, Dusty could not manage to get Belle alone for more than a few seconds. Asked to let the matter drop, she had declared herself willing to do so; if Emma invited her into the Honest Man.

  Consulting the Kid and Waco, Dusty had finally decided to leave the women to settle the issue themselves. From what Mark had told them, Belle could take care of herself. She had also fixed it so that Emma would be unable to wear the dangerous rings and most likely had to cut short her nails. So both should escape serious damage. Waco had warned that the town would deeply resent any interference which halted the fight. Already, the trio suspected, Lampart was seeking a way to remove them. There was no point in giving him a weapon with which to turn the population against them.