The Devil's Posse

by Charles G. West

  “Oh my goodness,” Martha gasped, “those poor women.”

  Fred made up his mind. “The best thing for us is to close up and go to the house till they ride out again.” He immediately pulled the shade on his front door and bolted it. “Hurry, now. I don’t have any idea why they came back, but I know it ain’t gonna be good for anybody in town.” He walked by the window again and paused when he looked across the street at the harness shop. “Ralph’s thinkin’ the same thing. He’s turned his OPEN sign around.”

  There were similar reactions from the blacksmith and the barber at the menacing sight of the four outlaws boldly entering the town. Quincy had been right in estimating the intimidation caused by the sight of four gunmen to deal with. No one in the town was willing to take the risk of shooting at them. Anyone happening to be on the street quickly found the first convenient door to slip inside until the riders passed. Quincy grinned at Lonnie when the whole town seemed to button up and the residents scurried to their holes like frightened insects.

  “The damn town’s ours again,” he couldn’t help commenting.

  * * *

  “We’d better cook the rest of these potatoes,” Mae said. “They’re goin’ bad awful quick. I ain’t sure they’ll be fit to fry in another day.” She carved off about a fourth of the one she was holding. “That’s plumb rotten, and I don’t know when we’ll be able to get some more this winter.”

  “We’ll just serve more beans,” Daisy said. “As long as we give ’em plenty of meat, they don’t—”

  Mae turned to see why Daisy had not finished her comment and found her staring wide-eyed at the dining room door, dumbstruck by the vision of Quincy Morgan standing there. Never far from finding her voice, however, Daisy demanded, “What the hell are you doing back here?”

  “Why, we came back here to call on you charmin’ ladies,” Quincy said sarcastically. Coming in behind him, the ominous figure of Mike Swann filled the doorway, causing both women to automatically take a step backward. Lonnie and Skinny came after him, completing the promise of evil to follow. “We left in such a hurry that we plumb forgot to get all our belongin’s outta our rooms,” Quincy went on.

  “You didn’t leave anything in those rooms but a few filthy clothes,” Daisy said, still the only one of the two women who could talk. “I threw them in the wash and put ’em in the closet at the end of the hall. I’ll get ’em for you so you don’t have to waste any more time here.”

  Quincy chuckled, pleased by the apparent fear he saw in the women. “There damn sure better be somethin’ else in my room, or I’ll burn this damn house down. Now, suppose you rustle up some coffee for my two friends here while me and Lonnie get the rest of our belongin’s. And maybe some pie or somethin’ to go with it. That’ud be all right, wouldn’t it, Swann?” Skinny and Swann looked at each other and nodded. “Just set yourself down and these fine ladies will bring you somethin’,” Quincy said. He looked toward the kitchen door then and asked, “Where’s Hannah?”

  “She ain’t here,” Daisy said. She had a pretty good idea that Hannah had heard what was going on in the dining room, and was probably hiding in the pantry. At least, she hoped she was.

  “Where is she?” Quincy asked again.

  “She went to the store to get some things,” Mae answered, having recovered enough to speak. “Daisy and I can help you get your things. We don’t wanna hold you up.”

  “You better not be lyin’ to me,” Quincy threatened. “Now, get your ass in the kitchen and make some coffee for my friends. Daisy can help me and Lonnie with our stuff.”

  Perfectly content to sit down at the table to await a cup of coffee, Swann and his wiry companion made themselves comfortable, unsuspecting of any double-crossing from their partners. Back in the hallway, before the door to guest room number one, Lonnie asked Daisy, “Who’s been in here since we left?”

  “Nobody,” Daisy said, seeing no reason to tell him that Logan had spent one night there. “I told you I put your stuff in the hall closet.”

  “Not all of it, or you’re gonna be in more trouble than you ever saw before,” Lonnie said, and opened the door. “Grab the end of that bed.” He took the headboard while Quincy stood at the door to keep an eye on the hall, in case Swann got curious. “Walk it over a piece,” Lonnie instructed Daisy, and they moved the bed several feet.

  As soon as they set it down, Lonnie pulled his large bowie knife and went to work prying up one end of a floorboard. It came up fairly easily, to Daisy’s surprise. Lonnie pulled it up about a foot from the floor, then did the same to the board next to it.

  “Safe and sound,” he announced to Quincy, still standing at the door.

  Astonished, Daisy watched as Lonnie pulled two heavy canvas bags from under the floorboards. Quincy walked over then and hefted the bags to make sure they were not lighter than when first hidden.

  “I need a couple more sacks, stout ones,” he said to Daisy.

  “We ain’t got any sacks,” Daisy said.

  “Pillowcases will do,” Lonnie said, and grabbed the pillows off the bed. “They’re strong enough,” he said, after testing them. Working quickly then, they transferred part of the gold dust into the pillowcases. “Now get them clothes you said we left,” he told Daisy.

  Dazed by the thought that so much treasure had been hidden right under her nose, she went at once to the closet to fetch the few articles of clothing they had left behind. Lonnie stuffed them into the heavy pillowcases in an attempt to disguise the actual contents.

  “I reckon that’s about the best we can do,” he said. “I’ll tote these, if you’ll tote the rest of it.” They started out the door.

  “How ’bout fixin’ the floor you just tore up?” Daisy said, becoming more perturbed now than afraid.

  “How ’bout fixin’ it yourself?” Quincy said with a sneer.

  “You no-good bastard,” she responded, earning a hard slap across her face.

  “I never did like you very much, you mouthy bitch,” Quincy said. “And if you open that sassy mouth of yours about what’s in them pillowcases, I swear I’ll shoot you down on the spot. You got that?”

  “I got it,” Daisy replied, rubbing her stinging cheek. “What do I care if you cheat that scum you’re ridin’ with?”

  Back in the dining room, Swann and Skinny got to their feet when Quincy and Lonnie walked in, anxious to see the gold. “Here it is, boys,” Quincy announced, and dropped the two canvas sacks on the floor before them. “Just like we left ’em, they oughta be about the same weight, so take your pick, and me and Lonnie will take the other’n.”

  Swann and Skinny immediately opened the two sacks to inspect the contents. If there was any question in their minds about the pillowcases Lonnie was holding, they made no comment. The payday was definitely larger than one they could have expected before running into Quincy and Lonnie.

  “Which’un you want, Skinny?” Swann asked. When Skinny simply shrugged indifference, Swann picked one up. “We’ll take this’un.” Although simple, Swann was not stupid, so he posed a question to Quincy. “You didn’t have no need for me and Skinny to help you fight these two women. You ain’t payin’ us this much just for our company, so what the hell are you payin’ us to do?”

  Quincy smiled. “I told Lonnie you was smart enough to know there was more to it than this. I figure you’ll earn your pay by doin’ what you do best.”

  Swann grinned smugly. “Somebody needs killin’,” he said. “Who, and how many are you talkin’ about?”

  “Ain’t but one man,” Quincy said. “But he might have a few friends with him. That’s why I need you—to make sure his friends don’t get in my way.”

  Swann looked at Skinny and nodded. Then back to Quincy, he said, “Let’s get to it, then, so we can get busy spendin’ some of this gold.”

  “Hold on just a minute,” Quincy said, then turned to Mae. “How
long’s Hannah been gone?”

  “She left just a minute or two before you got here,” she said.

  A slow grin began to form on Quincy’s face. “Now, why do I think you’re lyin’ to me, bitch? If she’da gone to the store a minute before we got here, we’da seen her on the street. Now, where is she?”

  “She ain’t here,” Daisy said. “Mae told you that.”

  Quincy grabbed her by the front of her blouse and jerked her hard up against him. “I’ve done told you to quit lyin’ to me, but you don’t learn too quick, do you?” He shoved her hard enough to slam her against the wall. “Now, I think I’ll take a look in the kitchen.”

  He charged through the kitchen door, looking expectantly from right to left. Mae and Daisy both gasped in fear. When he saw no sign of Hannah, he went to the only place for the woman to hide.

  “No!” Mae exclaimed without thinking, knowing that Hannah was in the kitchen when they came in. With a satisfied smirk, he grabbed the doorknob and flung the pantry door open to bang against the wall.

  He stood there for a long moment before turning around to face Mae. “Where is she, damn it?”

  “I swear, I don’t know where she is,” Mae said, as surprised as he to find she was not there. “I told you, she went to the store. I don’t know why she didn’t come back. Maybe she saw your horses and ran. Least, I hope to hell she did.”

  Determined to find her, Quincy stormed out of the kitchen and marched down the long hall to Hannah’s room while his three partners watched in amusement at his frantic antics. “Damned if ol’ Quincy ain’t got the itch bad,” Swann said.

  “She must be somethin’,” Skinny said. “I’d like to get a look at her.” He looked around toward Daisy. “I wouldn’t throw that one outta the bed.” He smiled when the comment made Daisy cringe.

  Outside the kitchen door, Hannah could easily hear Quincy’s loud remarks of frustration. Hearing the conversation coming from the dining room earlier, when she was hiding in the pantry, she decided it was not a safe place to hide. Now, outside, with her back pressed tightly against the back of the house, she knew it only a matter of minutes before he looked out there, and she would be discovered at once. With no other choices, she decided to run to the outhouse, hoping he wouldn’t think to look there.

  Stalking out of Hannah’s empty room, Quincy opened all the other bedroom doors on his way back to the kitchen, then went straight to the back door. There was no one in the backyard, so he turned to come back inside, pausing when he thought of one other place. With a victorious grin on his face, he went straight to the small privy beyond the washhouse and yanked the door open. His grin was replaced at once by a dark frown of anger when he discovered that the outhouse was empty. He slammed the door shut and strode purposefully back to the house. Behind him, Hannah released the breath she had been holding and thanked the Lord she had hidden behind the outhouse, instead of inside it.

  What to do now was the question in Hannah’s mind. From the talk she had overheard when still in the pantry, Quincy was planning to go in search of Logan, now that his gold was recovered. She did not have to think about it long, for she knew that Logan needed to be warned. She owed him that. She looked across the fifty yards of open expanse between the house and Sam Taylor’s stable. Could she possibly cross it without being seen?

  Well, I can’t stay here forever, she told herself. Sooner or later Quincy was bound to look behind the privy. She got to her feet and started running, afraid that the longer she waited, the harder it would be to make herself do it.

  Back in the house, Lonnie was getting impatient with Quincy’s lust for the young woman. He finally expressed it when his frustrated cousin came back from the outhouse. “How much longer are you gonna chase around here like a rutty boar? I thought we was gonna go settle up that debt we’ve got with Logan Cross. Or have you forgot about Jake?”

  Already angry, Quincy jerked his head around to glare at Lonnie. “You ain’t got no call to talk to me about killin’ Logan Cross. I’ll kill that son of a bitch—you don’t have to worry about that.” Lonnie’s words had the desired effect on him, however, for Quincy remembered the dark rage that had possessed him since his brother’s death. “We’re goin’ after him in the mornin’,” he said, “and any of that crew that gets in the way.” He looked at Mae then. “So you women best get some food started, ’cause we’re gonna need some supper. Maybe your partner will be back to help you cook it.” It was not the decision Mae was hoping he would make.

  “How ’bout it, Lonnie?” Swann asked. “We stayin’ here tonight?”

  “Looks that way, don’t it?” Lonnie answered, not happy with the decision.

  “Suits me,” Swann said. “Might as well go take a look in that saloon back up the street after we put the horses up in that stable across the yard.”

  “Spend some of that dust in this here sack,” Skinny said with a rare showing of enthusiasm.

  “All right,” Quincy said. “Lonnie, why don’t you take the horses down to the stable with Swann and Skinny? I’ll stay here and keep an eye on our gold.”

  * * *

  “You don’t understand,” Hannah pleaded. “He’s come back to kill Logan. Somebody has to go tell him.”

  “I understand,” Sam Taylor insisted. It was the last thing he wanted to hear when Hannah had run breathlessly into his stable. “But it ain’t gonna be me. I can’t run off and leave my stables for them to do whatever they please.” He knew that he wouldn’t be able to prevent them from doing anything they pleased even if he was there. But he didn’t want to tell Hannah that he was afraid of what they might do to him if he tried to warn Logan Cross.

  “Well, saddle a horse for me!” she exclaimed. “I’ll do it, but I’ve never been to the Triple-T. I don’t know if I can find it.”

  “I can tell you how to find it,” Sam said, eager to help her now. “I’ll saddle that little mare from before. You did all right on her, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I guess so,” Hannah said. She paced back and forth near the door, watching the house for anyone outside. “Please hurry!” Sam worked quickly, saddled the mare, and led her out of the stall. Why am I always caught outside without my coat? Hannah thought. “Do you have a coat I can borrow?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do,” Sam replied, and went to the tack room to fetch a heavy blanket coat. She slipped into it gratefully. Ready to ride then, she climbed aboard and walked the mare out the door. Armed with Sam’s rough directions, she rode off into the fading light of day in search of the Triple-T.

  Sam watched her until he could no longer see her, feeling less of a man for letting her make the ride, but telling himself that he had a family to consider.

  Chapter 17

  “What you starin’ at, Lou?” Bob Whitley asked when he walked up from the streambed after rinsing out his cup.

  “Yonder,” Lou answered, and pointed, “where that old dead tree’s leanin’ over the stream. That’s somebody ridin’ this way.” The tree was about three hundred yards from where they now stood.

  “Who is it?” Bob asked. “Can you make ’em out?” If it was one of the men from the ranch, he would hardly be coming from that direction, so both men stood staring until the rider came close enough to identify.

  “Well, I’ll be . . . ,” Lou started. “It’s a woman, looks like.”

  When she came a few yards closer, Bob said, “It’s Miss Hannah. What the hell is she doin’ out in the middle of the prairie?”

  “Somethin’s wrong,” Lou said. They walked a few yards forward to meet her.

  “Where’s Logan?” Hannah asked anxiously as she pulled the mare up before them.

  “Why, he’s back at the ranch, I expect,” Bob answered her. “He rode night herd last night. Is somethin’ wrong?” It seemed obvious to both men that something was.

  “They’re back, and they’re coming to look for
Logan!” Hannah exclaimed. “He’s got to get away from here!”

  “Who’s back?” Bob asked, picking up her urgency. “That phony marshal?”

  “Yes, him and Lonnie, and they brought two gunmen with them!” Hannah said. “They’re coming to kill Logan.”

  “Did you look for him back at the ranch?” Lou asked, still wondering what she was doing out there on the prairie.

  “I was trying to go to the ranch,” Hannah replied frantically. “But I guess I got lost. I’ve never been there before. I’m just thankful that I met you.”

  “It was pretty lucky,” Lou said. “Because if you hadn’t, the way you were ridin’, you wouldn’ta found nobody before you struck the Belle Fourche.” He and Bob looked at each other, knowing they had to act, but not sure how. “I reckon we’d best get back to the house and let them know what’s goin’ on.”

  “I reckon,” Bob agreed. It sounded as though there was a war about to happen. He turned to Hannah. “We’ll saddle up and head back to the ranch.” He paused then to take a look at the mare to determine how hard the horse had been ridden. It looked as though it was in good shape and he considered the fact that the point where they now stood was no more than three or three and a half miles from town.

  “We can get goin’ right away,” he decided. He looked at Hannah, perched atop the mare, bundled up in an oversized coat. “Are you all right? You ready to ride?”

  She nodded vigorously in reply.

  * * *

  They were met by Jace Evans, coming from the barn. He stopped, astonished to see his two men riding up with Hannah. He didn’t have time to ask the reason for her visit, for she excitedly repeated the story she had told Lou and Bob even before she could slip down off her horse.

  “Logan’s in the bunkhouse,” Jace said to Lou. “I think that’s where he went after supper.”

  “I’ll get him,” Lou said, and hurried away.