The Floating Outfit 18

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The Floating Outfit 18 Page 19

by J. T. Edson


  Letting out something close to a sob, Taylor did as he was told.

  “Why hello, Lon,” Betty said in tones of well-simulated surprise as the Kid burst into the cabin with his left hand holding the bowie knife and his right grasping the butt of the Dragoon Colt. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Did any of ’em —!” the Kid demanded savagely, although he could see that the contingency to which he was referring had not taken place.

  “Good Lord, no,” Betty replied. “They’ve all treated me like perfect gentlemen from the beginning. I’ve never even once had to take my little old John D out.” Rapidly approaching hooves drummed and, a few seconds later, the other two rescuers came into the room. “Why, heavens to Betsy, it’s you, S—!”

  “Shucks!” the Kid exclaimed. “I’d clean forgot as how you knowed Eph Tenor from up Denton way.”

  “Oh, I do,” the girl replied, and something in the way she spoke caused the Indian-dark Texan to look hard at her. “I most certainly do. Would you take me outside, please, Marshal? I feel a little faint.”

  “I tell you, gents,” Taylor said, watching the peace officer and Betty leave. “I’m not sorry to see her go. That is one mean-natured li’l gal. On top of all the a-cleaning and a-dusting out she made us give this place, would you believe she not only made me shave so close I thought I’d peel my hide, but she made me go out ’n’ wash my hands agin ’cause she allowed I didn’t get ’em clean enough first time.”

  “Yep, that’s our boss lady,” the Kid declared in genuine sympathy, glancing around the unexpectedly neat and tidy room and deducing how this had been brought about and wondering if there was any condition in the whole wide world that could make her even a little faint. “She’s sure enough mean!”

  “By the way, Marshal,” Betty was saying at that moment, as she looked to where Dobson and Bower were sitting on the ground looking scared. “What are you going to do with them?”

  “Take ’em afore Judge Parker at Fort Smith for trial,” U.S. Deputy Marshal Chris Madsen replied. xxxiv

  “Is that necessary?” the girl inquired.

  “They’ve bust the law even worse’n holding up the coach to Bent’s Ford when they took you to hold for ransom,” the peace officer pointed out.

  “I know,” Betty admitted. “But is it necessary to take them before him? Couldn’t it be handled at local level?”

  “Well, I—!”

  “They never harmed me, or were even in any way disrespectful. And I’m willing to bet that, after the fright they’ve just been handed, they’ll never try anything like it again.”

  “It’s the way—!” Madsen began.

  “I wonder how folks would feel if they knew you’d been riding all day long without knowing you had Sam Bass as a member of your posse?” Betty queried. Looking as if butter would be hard put to melt in her mouth, she went on, “These bunch don’t know him, and I know Lon won’t tell. Nor would I, not deliberately, but I do declare I’m such a li’l ole blabbermouth I might let it slip out, by accident, of course.”

  “All right, Miss Hardin,” Madsen said with a grin, envisioning the amusement that would arise if it should be heard by the other two “Guardsmen”—who he guessed would be the only persons to be told—how he had had the well-known Texas outlaw accompany him and the Kid. As had many another man when trying to oppose the will of the beautiful and very competent granddaughter of Ole Devil Hardin, he concluded he might as well surrender with good grace. “You win. I’ll let Duke Bent hand them their not-deserved needings as justice of the peace down this way. Then I’m going to tell Mr. Eph Tenor that we’d sooner he didn’t stick around racing that Denton mare he’s allus boasting about.”

  ~*~

  “And now, Mr. Loncey Dalton Ysabel,” Betty Hardin said as she and the black-dressed Texan were standing in the room she was given on being returned to Bent’s Ford a short while earlier. “What’s the game?”

  “Huh?” the Kid inquired, genuinely puzzled.

  “Why do you keep acting so all-fired eager to please me?” Betty explained, looking distinctly suspicious.

  “It’s all on account of my loving ’n’ respect—!”

  The words were brought to an abrupt end by something that only three men in the world could have done without very quickly having regretted the decision to do so.

  “I want the truth, like you reckon your Comanche side always tells,” Betty declared, grasping the Indian-dark Texan’s left ear to give it a twist. “So start to spitting it out, pronto!”

  “Easy there, boss lady!” the Kid protested. “It’s fastened onto the side and not meant to be turned upside—!”

  “The truth!” Betty demanded.

  “Calf rope!” the Kid yelled. “I should’ve knowed there was something bad coming when Waco was so all-fired eager to take them stud hosses to Mark’s uncle’s spread up north of Mulrooney. Sneaky young cuss!”

  “And was there?”

  “There sure as sin’s for sale in Cowtown was. A young feller as had helped us out more’n somewhat when we was running the law got hisself set for marrying to the next-richest family in town, Freddie ’n’ Dusty being the first.”

  “Go on!” Betty commanded, releasing the ear. “Get to the white meat!”

  “Well, we floating outfit boys was all invited to the wedding,” the Kid obliged, looking distressed and shamefaced. “And real fancy ‘n high-toned it was going to be. We was told by Freddie—who I allus took for being as good a friend of mine as you are—!”

  “Keep going!” the girl ordered. “Trying to butter me up won’t work.”

  “Well, she said’s how we was going to have to dress up,” the Kid obliged, and gave a shudder at the recollection of what was to follow. “It’d mean wearing a frock coat, shirt with a collar and cravat or some such, ’n’ even worse, a high silk hat.”

  “So you ran out on Dusty and Mark?” Betty guessed.

  “Wasn’t that ways at all,” the Kid protested with what he hoped would sound like indignation but was more indicative to the girl of his having a guilty conscience over his behavior by deserting his amigos in such a craven fashion. “Hell, Dusty’s used to wearing such fancy doodads and I allus reckon Mark even likes doing it. Which I’d still’ve stood by ’em like a man, ’cepting I remembered as how you’d said you’d be waiting down here to Bent’s to get us safe back to home ’n’ concluded I’d best put aside my pleasuring to come ’n’ do it.”

  “I’ll accept that, although thousands wouldn’t” Betty said with no sign of the merriment bubbling inside her. “But I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when Dusty and Mark get here after what you did to them.” xxxv

  Appendix One

  Wanting a son and learning that his wife, Electra, could not have any more children, Vincent Charles Boyd gave his only daughter, Belle, xxxvi a thorough training in several subjects not normally regarded as being necessary for the upbringing of a wealthy Southron girl. At seventeen, she could ride—astride or sidesaddle—as well as any of her male neighbors, men who were to help provide the Confederate States with its superlative cavalry. In addition, she was a skilled performer with an &pee de combat or a saber, xxxvii an excellent shot with any kind of handheld firearm, and an expert at senate, the French style of foot and fist boxing. All these accomplishments were to be very useful to her as time went by.

  Shortly before the commencement of the War Between the States, a mob of pro-Union supporters, led by two “liberal” agitators who fled north immediately after, stormed the Boyd plantation. Before they were driven off by the girl and the family’s Negro servants, they had murdered her parents and burned her home to the ground. On recovering from the wound she sustained in the fighting, hostilities having broken out between the South and the North, she joined the successful spy ring organized by her cousin, Rose Greenhow. xxxviii Wanting to find and take revenge upon the leaders of the mob, Belle was not content to operate in one locality. Instead, she undertook the dangerous task of deliveri
ng other agents’ information to the appropriate Confederate authorities. Adding an ability at disguise and in producing different dialects to her other accomplishments, she graduated to handling even more important and risky assignments, attaining such proficiency that she won the sobriquet “Rebel Spy.” On two missions, she worked with Captain Dustine Edward Marsden “Dusty” Fog, Company “C,” Texas Light Cavalry. xxxix Another had first brought her into contact with the Ysabel Kid xl , and later, accompanied by him and his father, Sam Ysabel, she had concluded her quest of vengeance upon the men responsible for the murder of her parents. xli

  While the “Yankees” were given reason to hate the Rebel Spy when she was engaged in her duties against them during the War, the majority had no cause to feel other than gratitude after peace was brought about by the meeting at the Appomattox Court House. On signing the oath of allegiance to the Union, she was enrolled in the United States Secret Service. Despite all the trouble she had given that organization throughout the hostilities, she served it loyally and with equal efficiency. Her participation in thwarting a plot to assassinate President Ulysses Simpson Grant prevented friction and possibly another war between the Southern and Northern states. xlii Assisted by Martha “Calamity Jane” Canary xliii and Belle Starr, xliv she brought to an end the reign of terror caused by a murderous gang of female outlaws. xlv With the aid of Dusty Fog and other members of the OD Connected ranch’s floating outfit, she broke up the Brotherhood for Southern Freedom. xlvi In the same company, she prevented diplomatic difficulties between the United States and Haiti. xlvii She joined forces once more with Belle Starr and the Ysabel Kid when involved in the efforts of the international master criminal Octavius Xavier “The Ox” Guillemot, to gain possession of James Bowie’s knife. xlviii Assisted by Calamity Jane and Captain Patrick Reeder of the British Secret Service, she wrecked two attempts by European anarchists to create hostility between the United States and Great—as it was then—Britain. xlix Assisted by the successful British lady criminal, Amelia Penelope Diana “Benkers” Benkinsop, she dealt with the man who had sold arms to the plotters. l

  Appendix Two

  Raven Head, only daughter of Chief Long Walker, war leader of the Pehnane—Wasp, Quick Stinger, Raider—Comanche’s Dog Soldier lodge and his French Creole pairaivo, li married a Irish-Kentuckian adventurer, Big Sam Ysabel, but died giving birth to their first child.

  Baptized “Loncey Dalton Ysabel,” the boy was raised after the fashion of the Nemenuh. lii With his father away from the camp for much of the time, engaged upon the family’s combined businesses of mustanging—catching and breaking wild horses liii—and smuggling, his education had largely been left in the hands of his maternal grandfather. liv From Long Walker, he learned all those things a Comanche warrior must know: how to ride the wildest freshly caught mustang, or make a trained animal subservient to his will while “raiding”—a polite name for the favorite pastime of the male Nemenuh, stealing horses—to follow the faintest tracks and just as effectively conceal signs of his own passing lv ; to locate hidden enemies, or keep out of sight himself when the need arose; to move in silence on the darkest of nights, or through the thickest cover; to know the ways of wild creatures lvi and, in some cases, imitate their calls so well that others of their kind were fooled. lvii

  The boy proved a most excellent pupil at all the subjects. Nor were practical means of protecting himself forgotten. Not only did he learn to use all the traditional weapons of the Comanche lviii ; when he had come into the possession of firearms, he had inherited his father’s Kentuckian skill at shooting with a rifle and, while not real fast on the draw—taking slightly over a second to bring up his Colt Second Model of 1848 Dragoon revolver and fire, whereas a top hand could do it in practically half that time—he could perform passably with it. Furthermore, he won his Nemenuh “man-name,” Cuchilo, Spanish for “Knife,” by his exceptional ability at wielding one. In fact, it was claimed by those best qualified to judge that he could equal the alleged designer in performing with the massive and special type of blade that bore the name of Colonel James Bowie. lix

  Joining his father in smuggling expeditions along the Rio Grande, the boy became known to the Mexicans of the border country as Cabrito—the Spanish name for a young goat—a nickname that arose out of hearing white men refer to him as the “Ysabel Kid,” but it was spoken very respectfully in that context. Smuggling was not an occupation to attract the meek and mild of manner, yet even the roughest and toughest of the bloody border’s denizens came to acknowledge that it did not pay to rile up Big Sam Ysabel’s son. The education received by the Kid had not been calculated to develop any overinflated belief in the sanctity of human life. When crossed, he dealt with the situation like a Pehnane Dog Soldier—to which war lodge of savage and most efficient warriors he had earned initiation—swiftly and in an effectively deadly manner.

  During the War Between the States, the Kid and his father had commenced by riding as scouts for Colonel John Singleton “the Gray Ghost” Mosby. Soon, however, their specialized knowledge and talents were diverted to having them collect and deliver to the Confederate States’ authorities in Texas supplies that had been purchased in Mexico, or run through the blockade by the United States Navy into Matamoros. It was hard and dangerous work, lx but never more so than the two occasions when they became engaged in assignments with Belle “the Rebel Spy” Boyd. lxi

  Soon after the war ended, Sam Ysabel was murdered. While hunting down the killers, the Kid met Captain Dustine Edward Marsden “Dusty” Fog and Mark Counter. When the mission in which they were engaged was brought to its successful conclusion, learning the Kid no longer wished to go on either smuggling or mustanging, the small Texan offered him employment at the OD Connected ranch. It had been in the capacity as scout rather than ordinary cowhand that he was required and his talents in that field were frequently of the greatest use as a member of the floating outfit. lxii

  The acceptance of the job by the Kid was of the greatest benefit all around. Dusty acquired another loyal friend who was ready to stick to him through any kind of peril. The ranch obtained the services of an extremely capable and efficient fighting man. For his part, the Kid was turned from a life of petty crime—with the ever-present danger of having his illicit activities develop into serious law breaking—and became a useful and law-abiding member of society. Peace officers and honest citizens might have found cause to feel grateful for that. His Nemenuh upbringing would have made him a terrible and murderous outlaw if he had been driven into a life of violent crime.

  Obtaining his first repeating rifle—a Winchester Model of 1866, although at first known as the “New Improved Henry,” nicknamed the “Old Yellowboy” because of its brass frame—while in Mexico with Dusty and Mark, the Kid had soon become an expert in its use. At the First Cochise County Fair in Arizona, despite circumstances compelling him to use a weapon with which he was not familiar, lxiii he won the first prize in the rifle-shooting competition against stiff opposition. The prize was one of the legendary Winchester Model of 1873 rifles that qualified for the honored designation “One of a Thousand.” lxiv

  It was, in part, through the efforts of the Kid that the majority of the Comanche bands agreed to go on the reservation, following attempts to ruin the signing of the treaty. lxv It was to a large extent due to his efforts that the outlaw town of Hell was located and destroyed. lxvi Aided by Annie “Is-A-Man” Singing Bear—a girl of mixed parentage who gained the distinction of becoming accepted as a Nemenuh warrior lxvii—he played a major part in preventing the attempted theft of Morton Lewis’s ranch, provoking trouble with the Kweharehnuh Comanche. lxviii To help a young man out of difficulties caused by a gang of card cheats, he teamed up with the lady outlaw, Belle Starr. lxix When he accompanied Martha “Calamity Jane” Canary to inspect a ranch she had inherited, they became involved in as dangerous a situation as either had ever faced. lxx

  Remaining at the OD Connected ranch until he, Dusty, and Mark met thei
r deaths while on a hunting trip to Kenya shortly after the turn of the century, his descendants continued to be associated with the Hardin, Fog, and Blaze clan and the Counter family. lxxi

  About the Author

  J.T. Edson was a former British Army dog-handler who wrote more than 130 Western novels, accounting for some 27 million sales in paperback. Edson’s works - produced on a word processor in an Edwardian semi at Melton Mowbray - contain clear, crisp action in the traditions of B-movies and Western television series. What they lack in psychological depth is made up for by at least twelve good fights per volume. Each portrays a vivid, idealized “West That Never Was”, at a pace that rarely slackens.

  If you enjoyed the westerns of J. T. EDSON, you may also enjoy the westerns of

  BEN BRIDGES and MIKE STOTTER:

  BEN BRIDGES:

  APACHERIA SERIES:

  Apacheria

  Lockwood’s Law

  ASH COLTER SERIES:

  Gunsmoke Legend

  Ride the High Lines

  Storm in the Saddle

  COMPANY C SERIES:

  Hit ’em Hard!

  To the Death!

  HELLER SERIES

  Heller

  Heller in the Rockies

  JIM ALLISON SERIES:

  Rattler Creek

  Blood Canyon

  Thunder Gorge

  JUDGE AND DURY SERIES:

  Hang ‘em All

  Riding for Justice

  Law of the Gun

  Trial by Fire

 

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