by J. T. Edson
‘The treatment my client was accorded while in custody is neither here nor there,’ Grosvenor stated, eyeing Tinker with disdain. ‘What is of the greatest importance is that she should never have been subjected to any of it.’
‘Like he—!’ Bleasdale began, but a kick on the ankle from his brother-in-law brought the words to a halt.
‘Come now, Counselor,’ Maher said, after directing a furiously prohibitive glare at the horse trader. This woman—!’
‘I prefer my client to be addressed as “Mrs. Front de Boeuf, Counselor,’ Grosvenor put in.
‘Very well,’ Maher assented, realizing he was up against a master of every aspect of their profession and feeling very much a novice in comparison. ‘Mrs. Front de Boeuf gave my client a bank draft for a considerable sum of money to purchase a herd of horses and, within a remarkably short time, sold them at a considerable loss for cash.’
‘And what makes that an illegal transaction calling for her to be arrested and subjected to such humiliation?’ Grosvenor inquired.
‘She told my client she would be taking the horses away on Monday afternoon,’ Maher replied. ‘And yet he was informed by Merri—’ He amended his speech as he received a cold glare from the horse buyer for the United States’ Army. ‘Mr Merridew that she was planning to leave town on Sunday morning.’
‘Did you tell Mr Merridew that, ma’am?’ Markham queried.
‘Well, yes I did,’ Jessica admitted. ‘You see, I needed cash to settle a few accounts I had acquired around town.’
‘But why’d you say you were leaving town the next morning?’ the marshal asked.
‘I’m a widow, sir,’ Jessica explained. ‘And not unattractive, if I can say it without being thought immodest. So I have had unpleasant experiences through being subjected to the unwanted attentions of gentlemen when compelled by circumstances to ask a favor.’ She paused and directed a smile and nod at the horse buyer before continuing, ‘Although, on this occasion, I found I had nothing to fear on that account. Everything about Mr Merridew’s behavior was perfectly proper. In fact, I was just about to explain I would not be leaving until Monday when I was confronted and not only arrested, but subjected to being handcuffed like a common criminal and-’
‘Why’d you sell those horses for only a thousand dollars when you paid me twenty-five hundred for them?’ Bleasdale demanded, displeased and alarmed by the effect upon some of the audience—including Mayor Shipman, who he had counted upon being a supporter—when the woman’s words died away as if she was too overcome by the horror of the situation to go on.
‘Because, sir,’ Jessica answered, stiffening her shoulders in a manner which implied she was struggling to regain her composure. ‘I had received word from a friend in Topeka that the people who were my partners had decided to back out of the deal. That meant the horses would be of no further use to me. So I decided that, even if I was unable to obtain the full amount, I would try to get back my own money which I had invested in the venture.’
‘Why did you go to Merridew?’ Maher inquired, wishing his brother-in-law would keep quiet and leave him to handle the interrogation.
‘I had heard of his integrity and the high prices he paid,’ Jessica explained. ‘So I thought I would obtain a good offer from him for the herd.’
‘And you asked him for cash,’ Bleasdale pointed out, having moved beyond the reach of his brother-in-law’s leg.
‘I did,’ Jessica admitted.
‘But you’d paid me by a bank draft!’ the horse trader reminded, with the air of one who had made the most significant point of the exchange.
‘Why wouldn’t I pay you that way?’ Jessica challenged. ‘I’m hardly likely to carry twenty-five hundred dollars in my reticule and, as I explained to Mr Merridew, there were some accounts I have with local business people that I wished to settle.’
‘Then why didn’t you settle them with bank drafts?’ Bleasdale demanded, paying no attention to the shrug of resignation given by Maher. ‘Or go and get some cash from the bank to do it?’
‘The bank was closed,’ Jessica pointed out. ‘And as I have never cared to have accounts outstanding over the weekend, considering this unfair to the people concerned, I wanted to settle them instead of waiting until Monday.’
‘Then you’re telling us this bank draft you gave me will be made good?’ the horse trader asked in a disbelieving tone, producing and tearing apart the sheet of paper. That’s what I thin—!’
‘Why’d you do that?’ Benskin inquired quietly. ‘You could have cashed it in any time you wanted to come in this morning.’
‘What!’ Bleasdale croaked, staring at the bank president in alarm and consternation.
‘Mrs. Front de Boeuf deposited five thousand dollars with us on her arrival,’ Benskin elaborated and there was a twinkle in his eyes. ‘So that bank draft she gave you was and still is perfectly good.’
‘G-G-G-G- Good!’ the horse trader gobbled.
‘Good,’ Benskin confirmed.
‘Are you sure the money she gave you is all right?’ Bleasdale demanded and, in his perturbation, he was oblivious of the alarmed intake of breath his words elicited from Maher. ‘It wasn’t counter—!’
‘If I were you, Counselor, I would advise your client to curb his tongue,’ Grosvenor boomed. ‘He is already deeply involved in making slanderous accusations against my client without adding to them.’
‘For god’s sake, Cuth!’ Maher croaked in a strangled tone. ‘Keep quiet and leave me do the talking!’
‘You have received most sound advise, sir,’ the Topeka lawyer declared ominously. ‘I don’t think you realize just how seriously your unjustified accusations will be taken if they are brought before a court of law.’
‘Is it necessary for the matter to go that far?’ Maher inquired in a sour yet hopeful voice, having noticed how the word ‘if had been employed instead of ‘when’, and realizing what this portended.
‘I would say that all depends how much your client is willing to pay in recompense for the humiliation he caused Mrs. Front de Boeuf to suffer,’ Grosvenor replied. ‘And I will go further in stating we consider the sum must be adequate enough to cover the stigma he has placed upon her good name.’
‘That wasn’t a bad weekend’s work, Momma,’ Trudeau Front de Boeuf remarked, as he and his mother walked towards Bleasdale’s livery barn on Monday afternoon. ‘And we didn’t even have to mention Cousin Mark, Cousin Solly, or Uncle Winston, to prove we had some mighty influential kin who’d back us up.’
‘I’m pleased we didn’t,’ Jessica replied. ‘Marshal Markham’s no fool and the last thing I’d want is for him to get in touch with any of them, especially Solomon Cole. Winston, and dear Mark in particular, would have been tactful for the sake of the family, but I’m afraid Solomon would feel bound by his oath of office as a US Deputy Marshal and would have told the truth.’
There was good reason for the massive young man to be so jubilant!
However, Jessica’s sentiments were not without justification!
In fact, if Town Marshal Stanley Woodrow Markham had overheard the conversation, it would have confirmed the suspicions he was harboring with regards to the Front de Boeufs at the conclusion of the informal hearing he had held!
While they were discussing the matter privately in another room at the jailhouse, warned by his brother-in-law that he was faced with the prospect of a costly law suit which he was certain to lose, Cuthbert Alan Bleasdale the Third was advised to settle the matter out of court and on the spot. Further pressure to follow this course had been provided by Mayor David Shipman on joining them. It was prompted by his realization that the town could be faced with a similarly costly suit for false arrest and, at the next election, the voters would not forget his brother-in-law was its instigator. He had been informed by Jessica this was not contemplated, as Deputy Jack Tinker had only done what he regarded as his duty, so he had considered it politic to lend support to the claim against the horse trader. Af
ter only a token resistance, albeit with bad grace, Bleasdale agreed to pay recompense of ten thousand dollars to his ‘victim’. What was more, as ‘boot’ for the deal, he had been required to supply her and her son with a buggy and team to take them to their next destination.
Regardless of the way they had behaved since arriving in Abilene, Jessica and her son were far from being the harmless innocents selected as potential victims by the men who fell into the traps they laid. They had numerous kinfolk who were pillars of society and respected for honesty in all matters, including the three they had mentioned. Winston Front de Boeuf was one of the pioneers of cattle raising on a large scale north of the inter-continental railroad. 12 Youngest son of a wealthy rancher from the Big Bend country in Texas, as well as being acclaimed for other abilities, Mark Counter had acquired a well deserved reputation as a most competent peace officer in a trail end town. Since being appointed a United States’ Deputy Marshal in Kansas, Solomon Wisdom ‘Solly’ Cole had become known for honesty and integrity. 13
Neither Jessica nor Trudeau Front de Boeuf could claim to possess such high moral standards. They were, in fact, the ‘black sheep’ of their family and spent their lives involving themselves in illicit activities of various kinds. 14 Their way of life required that they kept moving and they had come to Kansas in search of fresh victims. Nor was their presence in Abilene the result of pure chance. In accordance with their policy, they had had a most efficient associate scouting the railroad towns for a likely prospect upon whom to work a confidence trick thought up by Jessica.
Produced by a man who knew what to look for, the very thorough report from their associate suggested the Front de Boeufs had found the ‘mark’ they wanted. It covered Bleasdale’s less than savory reputation and nature, the well filled state of his corrals, and the type of animals they held, Gaylord Benskin’s habit of closing the Cattlemen’s Bank early on Saturday when going for a weekend hunting trip with the town marshal, the kind of peace officers who would be available in Markham’s absence, and how Titus Merridew would be in town buying horses for the United States’ Army. Taking all these factors into account, she had concluded Bleasdale qualified as a suitable victim and the scheme was put into operation.
Everything had gone according to plan. Nor had Trudeau Front de Boeuf’s encounter with the three travelling salesman been accidental. Having seen them operating in another town, he had selected them to bring himself to the attention of Deputy Marshal Jack Tinker in a manner calculated to arouse suspicion. While this was happening, as Jessica expected, Bleasdale had had her followed at the conclusion of the purchase of the horses. Then he and the peace officer, on learning of her negotiations with Merridew, had behaved as was anticipated. Knowing the kind of man she was up against, she had suspected the reason for the three prostitutes being put into the cell with her and had been ready to counter it. When they had recovered sufficiently to understand the situation, Jessica, wanting to avoid the way in which she had protected herself destroying her pose of well bred innocence, had given them some of the money she had kept successfully concealed upon her person while being searched and they had agreed to ‘confirm’ the story she had told Mrs. Hogan.
With the matter concluded in a most satisfactory fashion, the Front de Boeufs had no intention of remaining in Abilene any longer than was necessary. They had too much respect for the acumen of the Marshal to want to give him time to check up on their background. Returning to the rooming house, they had made changes to their attire to fit them for their journey and were already on their way. Having sent their belongings ahead with instructions for them to be loaded on the buggy, Jessica was dressed much as she had been when meeting Bleasdale and buying the horses. Her son had changed into a Texas style white Stetson, a loose fitting and open fringed buckskin jacket over a dark blue shirt, brown Eastern style riding breeches and black Wellington-leg boots. However, the garments did not make him seem any more impressive or dangerous in any way.
The horses Jessica had bought and then sold to Titus Merridew were still in the corrals, but otherwise the livery barn looked deserted as she and her son arrived. Although she had expected the man who delivered their baggage to be waiting for payment, neither he nor anybody else answered her call for attention. However, when they went through the front entrance of the building, they found there were human occupants. What was more, the two men in dirty range style clothes who confronted them obviously were not present for any harmless purpose such as helping to prepare the buggy for their use.
‘Keep your mouths shut and don’t make no sudden moves!’ the taller of the pair growled, his voice somewhat muffled by the bandana he had tied around his face to serve as a mask. Gesturing with the Colt Peacemaker he held, he went on, ‘We want all that money you’ve got and aim to have it, even if we have to kill you both to get it!’
Listening to Tom Clarke speaking from below his hiding place in the hay loft of the livery barn, Dick Lester, behind the bandana he too considered was advisable to wear as a mask, grinned as he thought of the easy money they and their cousin, Michael McCann, would soon be making. It would be far in excess of anything they had previously received from Cuthbert Alan Bleasdale the Third, who had underpaid them through all the time they had been engaged in stealing and selling horses to him. Not that he suspected they had no intention of turning the money taken from the Front de Boeufs over to him and contenting themselves with the thousand dollars he had promised would be their share. Instead, as soon as it was in their possession, they would collect the horses they had waiting not too far away and head out with all speed, never to return.
To give the horse trader his due, Lester thought, everything had been as he promised when the trio had reached the barn. None of his employees were present and, on arrival, the man with the victims’ baggage had proved no obstacle. Hit on the head with the barrel of Clarke’s Colt, he had been rendered unconscious and unable to resist being tied up, gagged and placed in Bleasdale’s office where he would not be seen.
Climbing into the hay-loft, which offered a better view of the surroundings than was obtainable at ground level, Lester had been satisfied that nobody else was in the vicinity as the couple he and his kinsmen were awaiting came into view. Studying them, despite knowing they had pulled off a mighty slick trick against Bleasdale, he had been confident they would prove easy pickings. However, instead of continuing the surveillance of the outside area as he had told the others he would do, he decided to move forward until he could watch what happened during the robbery. Having little faith in human nature as a whole and none whatsoever in his two partners possessing a sense of honesty and fair dealing, any more than he did, he wanted to make sure neither pocketed a proportion of the loot before it could be divided equally among all of them. He heard the straw-littered wooden floor creak slightly under his feet, but felt sure the sound would go unnoticed by the woman and massive young man. Nor would he have been any more concerned if he had known his movements were causing a trickle of dust and straw fragments to fall through the cracks in the boards as he approached the inner edge.
‘Mercy me!’ Jessica gasped, appearing to be horrified and swaying slightly. ‘How frightening. I feel I am going to have the vapors!’
‘S—So do I, Momma!’ Front de Boeuf seconded, looking even more terrified than his mother.
‘Hey, Mick,’ Clarke said with a grin, glancing at the man by his side. ‘Did you ever see such a pa—?’
Before the question could be completed, it was interrupted in no uncertain fashion!
While swaying, Jessica had started to raise her left hand. The moment it was pointing towards the speaker, who was too amused to attach any significance to the movement, flame erupted from the large brown fur muff which covered it and there was the somewhat muffled crash of a shot from a heavy caliber revolver. Aimed in such a fashion, luck combined with the possession of considerable skill and caused the bullet aimed by rapid instinctive alignment to fly with unerring accuracy. A hole appeared i
n the center of Clarke’s forehead and the back of his skull burst open as the lead shattered out. Spinning around, his own revolver firing harmlessly into a bale of hay, he was going down without knowing how the apparently foolproof plan had gone astray.
Like his cousin, McCann had been amused at the response elicited by the threat. He had, in fact, begun to turn his gaze in Clarke’s direction with the intention of making a similar comment. To compound his folly, on hearing the shot, regarding Front de Boeuf as being no danger whatsoever, he swung his eyes towards the beautiful woman and the muff from which smoke rose in a lazy curl. Not that he was allowed more than a brief instant in which to learn what had gone wrong.
Dismissing the young Southron as being as harmless as he appeared proved to be a fatal mistake!
As more than one man had discovered to his cost, Trudeau Front de Boeuf, although under his domineering mother’s thumb to a certain extent, was far from being the meek and mild milksop he frequently contrived to portray. What was more, even without having shared her belief that Bleasdale would try to retrieve the money taken in ‘recompense’ by some such means, he would not have been travelling unarmed. Concealed beneath the right side of his jacket was a weapon of great potency and he was as skilled in its use as his mother was with the short barreled Colt Storekeeper Model Peacemaker in her muff. Knowing how she was armed and would behave, he was ready and, taking full advantage of the distraction she had caused, commenced his own move.
