by J. T. Edson
The Home of Great Western Fiction!
When Dusty Fog was ambushed and nearly killed by a band of hired killers, only the intervention of a friendly stranger saved his life. From then on, Dusty knew he had to obey the Texan code of honor and repay his debt to Raymond Sangster without hesitation.
However, the small Texan did not envisage the cost of settling his debt of gratitude—for the price was the building of a railroad across the land of a good friend—and a threat to the unity of Ole Devil Hardin’s floating outfit.
THE FLOATING OUTFIT 29: THE CODE OF DUSTY FOG
By J. T. Edson
First published by Corgi Books in 1988
Copyright © 1988, 2018 by J. T. Edson
First Kindle Edition: November 2018
Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book
Series Editor: Ben Bridges
Text © Piccadilly Publishing
Published by Arrangement with the Author’s Agent.
For Dorothy Murphy and Charles Mwakai of Kuoni Travel, Nairobi, plus Sammy and all the other safari bus drivers who have helped to make every visit to Kenya a most pleasant and enjoyable experience. Heri na baraka, kwenu-nyote
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
One – I Know What They Say About Him!
Two – They’re Going to Kill You!
Three – I Owe You My Life!
Four – Nowheres Near Big As Cap’n Fog
Five – Who Did the Hiring?
Six – You Look Like A Man With Problems
Seven – It’s Dancing I’m Feeling Like, Not Leaving!
Eight – He’ll Be Ruined For Life
Nine –I Thought You’d Never Ask
Ten – Dave Short Wants You
Eleven – This Isn’t Fun!
Twelve – They’re a Bad Bunch
Thirteen – We’ll Be Doing Things My Way
Fourteen – Slow-Elking’s the Same As Stealing Cattle
Fifteen – For the Benefit of the American People
Sixteen – My Daddy Built That Bridge
Seventeen – It Was Him Who Hired Us
About the Author
Author’s Note
While complete in itself, the events in this book follow on from those recorded in: Decision for Dusty Fog and Cards and Colts.
We wish to thank Dudley Pope—official biographer for Captain Lord Nicholas Ramage, R.N.—for allowing us to borrow the family archives from which we obtained details of the participation of his His Lordship’s grandson, Sir John Uglow Ramage.
When supplying us with the information from which we produce our books, one of the strictest rules imposed upon us by the present day members of what we call the ‘Hardin, Fog and Blaze’ clan and the ‘Counter’ family is that we never under any circumstances disclose their true identities, nor their present locations. Therefore, we are instructed to always employ sufficient inconsistencies to ensure neither can happen.
We realize that, in our present ‘permissive’ society, we could use the actual profanities employed by various people in the narrative. However, we do not concede a spurious desire to create ‘realism’ is any excuse to do so.
Lastly, as we refuse to pander to the current ‘trendy’ usage of the metric system, except when referring to the caliber of certain firearms traditionally measured in millimeters—i.e. Walther P-38, 9mm—we will continue to employ miles, yards, feet, inches, stones, pounds and ounces, when quoting distances or weights.
J.T. EDSON
One – I Know What They Say About Him!
‘Damn it, Rocky!’ Michael “Mean Mick Meach” Meacher hissed, his accent showing he had been born of none too affluent circumstances in Illinois. ‘That can’t be him!’
‘It can’t, huh?’ Ronald “Rocky” Todd declared vehemently, never having taken kindly to implications that he might be wrong in anything he said or did. His voice was indicative of similar origins, albeit from a background offering the opportunity of a somewhat better education. ‘Well it is him!’
‘He sure as shitting don’t look it, for all he’s wearing a badge!’ asserted William “Bad Bill” Hamilton. He too clearly hailed from the “Prairie State”, but his tones had a slight Scottish burr and, like his companions, he had adopted a sobriquet which he considered had a tougher sound than his given name. Sharing Meacher’s misgivings, he was annoyed by the previous speaker having assumed the mantle of leadership throughout the negotiations which had brought them to their present position. ‘God damn it! The way those beefhead sons-of-bitches talk about hi—!’
‘I know what they say!’ Todd growled. The intonation he gave to “they” indicated he had a similar aversion where Texans—whose dependence upon the cattle business for maintaining the economy of their State had produced the derogatory sobriquet, “beefheads” [1] —were concerned. ‘But that Will Little jasper’s hired m—us—pointed him out to me not long after we got here and that’s him coming!’
There was more than a similarity in the accents of the speakers. All were tallish, fairly well built and had reasonably good looking faces with lines suggestive of vicious natures. A few years earlier, men such as them had formed the nucleus of the gangs of Northern guerillas led by the likes of James ‘Redleg’ Lane. While preaching adherence to the Union, they were just as brutal and unscrupulous as their counterparts riding with William Clarke Quantrill in an equally spurious pretence of serving the South. Deprived of this way of getting money, without the need to raise sweat doing honest work, they had drifted to the West and, as such an occupation was no longer lucrative in their home State, they sought to earn a living by hiring out their guns.
Of the three, Todd presented what some people might have considered the most striking appearance. Having a slight advantage in height over his companions, he had clearly based his appearance upon that of a man from Illinois who had acquired quite an impressive name throughout the West. Not only had he allowed his mousey brown hair to grow shoulder long, but he had cultivated a drooping moustache which did little to improve his features. He wore a flat topped, wide brimmed grey hat with a shining leather band decorated by what looked to be silver coins around its crown, a black cutaway coat, frilly bosomed white shirt with a string bow tie, grey trousers and black boots more suitable for walking than riding. The resemblance to James Butler ‘Wild Bill’ Hickok was taken even further. Two Colt Model of 1851 Navy Belt Pistol revolvers were tucked through the scarlet cloth sash about his waist, their walnut handles turned butt forward in the manner preferred by the famous gun fighter. [2]
Compared to their leader, although neither was willing to confer that status on him, despite knowing he was a relation of a prominent outlaw, the other two were far less flamboyant.
Their round topped, wide brimmed hats were not in the style adopted by Texans, nor—being stout ‘Yankees’ at heart— would they have wished this to be the case, but their clothing was much the same as worn by the cowhands who arrived at the railroad towns in Kansas, delivering herds of half wild longhorn cattle to the shipping pens. [3] The gunbelt each wore was of a kind intended to permit the fast withdrawal of the Colt 1860 Army Model revolvers in the twin holsters.
Two nights earlier, the trio had been paying their first visit to a notorious gathering place for outlaws, Honest
y John’s Tavern, in Brownton. Wanting to acquire the title ‘killer’, they had been delighted to have the opportunity of shooting down two men in front of an audience they considered— although they had never heard the term—to be comprised of their peers. Having learned that the beautiful young woman they had ‘rescued from the unwanted attentions’ of their victims was none other than Belle Starr, they had expected to be eagerly requested to become members of her ‘gang’. However, their feelings of satisfaction were ended by the scant gratitude she had shown and the owner of the Tavern, Jonathan Ambrose Turtle, had ordered them to leave. [4]
Starting to look for somewhere they would be better appreciated, the trio had heard hurrying footsteps and a masculine voice asking to speak with them. Although they hoped he was sent with a belated invitation from Belle Starr to go into full partnership with her, or—taking into account that Todd was related to the well known gunslinger and outlaw, David Short—that Turtle had had a change of heart and was requesting them to return, they discovered that neither supposition materialized. Nor had the precaution of being ready to draw their weapons proved necessary. The man who approached them had indicated his pacific intentions by keeping his hands extended well clear of his sides. Of indeterminate age, medium height and build, although his attire was that of a Texan, he was heavily bearded and had hair much longer than was considered acceptable by cowhands from that State. Glancing around to make sure they were not overheard, he had introduced himself as ‘Will Smith’. However, regardless of his style of clothing and somewhat harsh drawl suggesting his origins were in the West, he had not appeared to know what was meant when Todd had asked sardonically, ‘Is that your summer name?’ [5]
Making no response to the implication that he might have given an alias, the man had asked to be told the trio’s names. He had apologized for such a breach of range country etiquette, but claimed he was sure he must have heard of them referred to in the same breath as other such notable gunslingers as Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson and Wild Bill Hickok. Delighted by the supposition, it had not occurred to any of them to wonder why somebody who was going out of his way to give such strong indications that he was Texan would select the first name in particular, rather than some of those in the same category who hailed from the Lone Star State. Furthermore, none had thought to ask where he had gathered such information about them. Instead, overlooking the fact that hardly anybody outside their small home town had heard of them, Todd had introduced himself and his companions by their sobriquets.
Giving the trio no time to think about any of the conflicting points, the bearded man had said how he admired the way in which they had dealt with their ‘latest’ victims in Honesty John’s Tavern. However, he had made no reference to their rejection when they had offered their services to the lady outlaw and were summarily ejected by the proprietor. Instead, he had asked whether they would be available to handle a chore for him. Being somewhat quicker witted than his companions, Todd had acted as spokesman before either Hamilton or Meacher could respond. Asking how much the pay would be, before offering to discover what was entailed by the prospective employment, the long haired youngster had been as surprised as his companions at the reply. Quoting a sum of one thousand dollars and saying it would be considered justified when the trio learned the identity of their victim, Smith had supplied the name.
Discovering they would be expected to kill a peace officer would have been sufficient of a surprise for the trio. That the victim was the town marshal of nearby Mulrooney was even more so. Regardless of their antipathy towards Texans, which was based upon cultural indoctrination rather than for any genuine reasons, it had come as something of a shock to learn that the man they were to deal with was none other than Captain Dustine Edward Marsden ‘Dusty’ Fog. Despite pretending to reject all they had heard about him, not one of the trio had believed the task would be a sinecure. If the truth had been told, without the need for discussion, all of them had concluded the chore would prove a vastly different proposition to tackling two comparatively old and unsuspecting dudes like their previous, in fact only, victims.
Realizing his companions were experiencing a sense of perturbation similar to his own, Todd had sought to distract attention from it in case it was noticeable. Contriving to sound much more confident than he was feeling, he had sought to impress the potential employer with his ‘experience’ in such situations. Pointing out that the proposed victim had a number of deputies available for protection, some of whom would almost certainly have to be gunned down to complete the chore, he had claimed he considered a higher rate of pay was necessary to cover this contingency.
The man, claiming Todd’s suggestion of another five hundred dollars was a tribute to his astute business sense, had accepted the terms without argument. [6] With the financial side of the deal concluded, he declared it must be terminated with the minimum of delay. Learning the trio had horses, he had said he would meet them at Hampton’s Livery Stable in Mulrooney around noon two days later. Asked by Hamilton why he would not be accompanying them, he had alleviated similar suspicions which the other two were feeling by replying that men with their ‘considerable experience’ in such matters would appreciate how ill-advised it would be for them to be seen traveling together. Furthermore, he had other business to attend to in Brownton and would reach the rendezvous by train. Gratified by the complimentary reference to their supposed experience, Todd had stated his concurrence with the arrangement. His manner had implied, regardless of what the other two might think, that he was satisfied and the offer was accepted.
Although Hamilton and Meacher had not troubled to hide their annoyance at the way in which ‘Smith’ regarded Todd as their undisputed leader, or that Todd considered the same to be the case, they had not been granted an opportunity to rectify the misapprehension. Before the point could be raised by his employees, the employer had said that men of their ‘considerable experience’ would be aware that only traveling expenses were provided at this point in the negotiations. Being unsure whether such was the case, but having no desire to let their lack of knowledge become obvious to one who had so much misplaced faith in their non-existent abilities, the trio had agreed and accepted the twenty dollars they were offered without argument.
The negotiations had been carried out in the shadows of an alley between two unoccupied buildings, so there were less details available of the bearded man’s appearance than would have been seen if they had been out in the open. However, with the deal concluded, Hamilton—possessing the dour nature of the race from which he had his origins—had suggested pointedly it should be sealed with a drink paid for by their employer, as this was always the case under such circumstances.
Accepting the statement with some reluctance, although its maker had wondered whether he had inadvertently stumbled upon the correct routine, the man had taken them to a small and almost empty saloon. While having the drink, they had inadvertently received a clue as to his identity when he had remarked as verification of what he was saying in answer to a comment from Meacher, ‘or my name’s not Will Little’. While he had tried to cover up the error, all three had guessed Todd was correct when assuming ‘Will Smith’ to be an alias. What was more, the inadvertently supplied name had given a clue as to why the man wanted to have Dusty Fog killed.
Having brutally murdered a prostitute at a brothel in Mulrooney, a young man called Kenneth Little from the Ozark Mountains’ ‘hill country’ of Missouri had been arrested and held in the jailhouse pending his trial. Knowing that he would be sentenced to death if he was brought before a court of law, a number of his kin had sought to set him free. Not only had their efforts ended in failure but, due to the competence of the town marshal and deputies, Kenneth Little and several of his clan had been killed. Therefore, the trio assumed they had been hired by one of the survivors—impelled with the loyalty to family of their ‘hillbilly’ kind—to take revenge upon the man responsible for their death. However, they were not given a chance to ascertain whether the
supposition was correct. Having paid for one round of drinks, although Hamilton hinted more would be acceptable, the man had said he must go to keep another urgent appointment and had parted company with the trio. They had decided to follow him in the hope of learning what the undisclosed business might be, but by the time they had considered it safe to make the attempt to leave the saloon, he was nowhere in sight.
Meeting their employer at the appointed time and rendezvous, once again the long haired youngster had received the majority of his attention. Nevertheless, sensing the arrangement was resented by the other two and displaying the possession of tact, Will Little had supplied an acceptable excuse for leaving them behind while he took Todd to see their proposed victim. This had been achieved by stressing the necessity of the precaution of attending to the horses to ensure all would be ready, in case there should be the need for a hurried departure. Despite having claimed nothing could go wrong, Hamilton and Meacher had had to concede the latter was advisable. Like Todd, they knew Dusty Fog only by reputation and would need to be familiar with his appearance—impressive as it was credited to be by his fellow Texans—so as to avoid mistakes when the time came.
Returning alone from conducting the examination, Todd had announced that ‘the bastard’ did not look anywhere nearly as tough and big as was asserted by the other ‘beefhead sons-of-bitches’. Then he had described the plan for carrying out the chore he had received from their employer, although he pretended it was his own. Keeping off the streets until nightfall, in a small and cheap saloon well clear of the main business section, they had set off after dark to implement the scheme. Making their way to a street devoted to business premises, all of which were already closed for the day so that the street was deserted, they had waited for their intended victim to make his rounds. Although they had been warned this might not occur until a subsequent evening, it seemed fortune was favoring them.
