Ole Devil and the Caplocks (11 page)

“
I’ll
‘persuasive’ her if I get my hands on her!” Di spat out, with such
pent-up fury that Ole Devil began to have a greater appreciation of
just how great a strain she was under. Then, with a visible effort,
she regained control of her emotions and her voice became almost
normal as she continued, “What do you reckon she aims to do now
she’s got us stopped?”

“Either she’s got more of
her own band coming to attack us, or she’s going to look for help
from the Mexican Army to do it,” Ole Devil guessed. “She’s hoping
that with your grandfather, Joe and the bell mare dead—or so she
assumes —we’ll not be able to move before she can get
reinforcements.”

“Which we won’t,” Di
warned, “unless we can replace ole Whitey.”

“Will the mules accept
another mare?” Ole Devil asked.

“Shucks, yes. Just so long
as she’s got a bell on, they’ll follow her. Do any of your boys
ride a mare?”

“I’m afraid not. We’ve
only geldings.”

“That figures.” Di sighed,
being aware that having a mixed bunch of horses created problems
which a military unit would wish to avoid.

“
The
nearest place we might find one is San Phillipe,” Ole Devil
remarked.

“Sure,” the girl agreed,
but showed a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “You know the kind of
folks who live there?”

“I do,” Ole Devil admitted
and his tone proved that he understood the cause of the girl’s
reaction. “They’re just about as bad a bunch of cutthroats as can
be found in Texas. But they’re the quickest chance we have of
laying hands on a mare. And without one, we’ll never be able to
move the consignment.”

Accompanied by
Diamond-Hitch Brindley and Tommy Okasi, Ole Devil Hardin was
traveling through the darkness toward the cluster of lights and the
various sounds which marked the locations of the fifty or so
dwellings and business premises that comprised the town of San
Phillipe. They rode in line abreast, with the girl in the center,
their attitudes suggestive of extreme wary alertness. She and the
Texian were nursing their rifles, fully cocked and, in the latter’s
case, with a five-shot slide magazine in the frame. The little
Oriental was carrying his bow with an arrow nocked to the string.
Nor, despite being close to their destination, did they place the
weapons in less accessible positions. In fact, they grew even more
watchful.

Few people who knew Texas
would have blamed the trio for such behavior.

Even judged by the most
tolerant standards, San Phillipe was far from an attractive place.
For a number of reasons, particularly the presence of several
dangerous reefs and shoals offshore, it was not even a success as a
port and served mainly as a point at which small vessels could put
in with illicit cargoes. However, it had not been considered a
suitable location for the Bostonian Lady to land the consignment of
Caplock rifles. There were ugly rumors that a number of the wrecks
which had occurred in the vicinity might not have been accidental,
but were caused through the ships being lured to destruction by the
local inhabitants.

Although the time was
close to midnight, most of the houses still had lamps burning and
people moving about in them. Laughter, shouts, a rumble of
conversation and music sounded from the largest building in the
center of the town. However, while there did not appear to be
anybody on the single street, the girl and the two young men were
conscious of being watched.

“Blast it!” Di muttered,
nodding toward the noisy and well illuminated building, but holding
her voice down to little more than a whisper. “I was hoping that
Cole Turtle’d be closed down afore we got here.”

“The trouble with you is
that you want everything too easy,” Ole Devil replied, just as
quietly and without relaxing his vigilance any more than the girl
had while speaking. “What would this life of ours be without a
little challenge or two and a few difficulties?”

“A damned sight easier,”
Di stated, sotto voce. “Which I’d sooner it son-of-bitching was,
but don’t reckon it’s ever likely to get to be. And I don’t want
any old Nipponese sayings that you’ve just made up!”

“Humble self was not going
to say a word,” Tommy answered, the girl’s last sentence having
been addressed to him. “Let honorable and illustrious companions
make foolish conversation while I keep watch over them.”

“
Why
thank you ’most to death,” Di sniffed, then went on as if to
herself. “Damned if I know which of ’em’s the worst. Ain’t neither
the one to improve on the other.”

Glancing quickly at Di,
Ole Devil found nothing to lessen his admiration for the way in
which she was bearing up under what had been—and still was—a period
of dire tribulation and anxiety.

Doc Kimberley had done
everything in his power, but Ewart Brindley’s condition was still
critical. Nor could moving him have been achieved without much pain
and the risk of aggravating his injury still further. Yet there was
a definite limit to how long he could be allowed to stay where he
was. Not only was the weather far from ideal for a badly wounded
man to be out of doors, even though a shelter had been made for
him, the area he was in might—in fact, probably would-be unsafe in
the near future. Even accepting that Major Abrahan Phillipe
Gonzales de Villena y Danvila’s deserted
mozo
had spoken the truth, it would
only be a matter of a few days before the Arizona Hopi
Activos
Regiment put in
an appearance. There was also the possibility that Madeline de
Moreau might gather sufficient assistance, either from renegades or
the Mexican Army, to make another bid at capturing the assignment.
So the old man would have to be taken somewhere beyond their
reach.

For all the great concern
she was feeling over the welfare of her grandfather and Joe Galton,
who was her adoptive brother and companion since they had been
children, the girl had neither said nor done anything that would
have interfered with the work in which she was involved. Instead,
she had accepted that both were receiving the best possible care
and had given her full attention to dealing with the urgent problem
of transporting the consignment.

With time of such vital
importance, and there having been nowhere else close by from which
a mare might be obtained, Ole Devil had set out for the town as
soon as it was possible.’ Being aware of the inhabitants’
well-deserved unsavory reputation, he had realized that the visit
would entail a considerable element of danger. He had doubted that,
even though it might be to their advantage to gain independence
from the rule of
Presidente
Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, they would allow
thoughts of how useful the five hundred Caplock rifles would be in
their fellow Texians’ struggle against the numerical superiority of
the Mexican Army to override their predatory instincts. The weapons
were too tempting a prize for them to ignore and he had sufficient
worries on his hands already without creating more.

However, with Company “C”
of the Texas Light Cavalry already subdivided by the need to
maintain a circle of pickets around Santa Cristobal Bay as well as
guarding the consignment and the mule train, he was unable to bring
a strong enough force to ensure his safety. In fact, but for one
detail, he would have restricted his party to himself and the
little Oriental.

There was a man in San
Phillipe, no more law abiding than his neighbors, who owed Ewart
Brindley a debt of gratitude and could be counted upon to repay it.
As he was, or had been, a leader of the community, his support
could spell the difference between success and failure. However,
being of a suspicious nature, he would not have accepted either a
verbal or a written request from the wounded pack master if it was
delivered by someone with whom he was not acquainted. Galton was
still too weakened by his injury to make the hard and fast ride
which the situation required. So Di, who Cole Turtle knew and
liked, had been given the task of enlisting his aid.

In spite of their hopes
that they might find an ally at San Phillipe, the girl and her
companions had made certain preparations which they believed would
improve their chances of survival.

Di had on a long and bulky
wolf skin jacket and it did much to conceal her well-rounded
feminine curves as well as the pistol and knife on her waist belt.
By drawing down the wide brim of her low-crowned, fawn-colored
hat—which had been hanging with the coat on her saddle when the
Bostonian Lady’s captain had studied her on his arrival at Santa
Cristobal Bay—she could partially hide her features and her hair
was short enough to attract no attention.

For his part, Ole Devil
had retained his armament—with the exception of the saber—which he
had left in Mannen Blaze’s care—but exchanged his riding breeches
for a pair of yellowish-brown civilian Nankeen trousers from his
war bag. However, apart from donning a hat to be used for the same
purpose as the girl’s head gear, lessening the chances of his
Oriental features being noticed. Tommy had not made any alterations
to his attire, weapons, or appearance.

As an added precaution, in
case they should be seen arriving—which Di had claimed was
practically inevitable—the two had made a wide detour around the
town and were approaching it along the trail from the north. From
what they could see and hear, taken with the sensation of being
watched, they decided that the additional distance which they had
been compelled to cover so as to mislead such observers was
worthwhile.

Drawing closer to the
large building without being challenged or molested, Di and the two
young men became aware of a shape on the porch at the right of the
open front door. Conveying an impression of considerable size and
bulk but wearing a high crowned black sombrero and a serape which
covered it from head to foot, the figure was squatting with Its
back against the wall and appeared to be asleep.

“Could he’s good ole Cole
Turtle’s still the head he-hooper around these parts,” the girl
hissed, relief plain in her voice “That there’s his man, Charlie
Slow-Down, I telled you about. There’s a full loaded and cocked
blunderbuss under his serape, which he’s never been slow to use it.
But do and say like I told you and we’ll be all right—I
hope’”

“
That’s
what I like,” Ole Devil answered, studying the motionless shape. “A
girl with confidence in her own advice.”

“Ancient and wise
Nipponese saying—” Tommy began.

“That’s all we need!” Di
groaned.

“Woman seldom speaks with
wisdom,” the little Oriental continued blandly. “And when she does,
it is by accident.”

“
If
things go wrong,” the girl whispered, “I know who I hope gets shot
first—and where he’s hit.”

For all their quietly
spoken banter, Di, Ole Devil and Tommy appreciated that, far from
being over, their problems could soon reach a crisis. The
conversation was a way of reducing the tension which all of them
were experiencing.

While confident that Cole
Turtle would do what he could to help, Di had never minimized the
risks involved by going to ask him for it. Strangers had never been
made welcome in San Phillipe, unless they were sufficiently well
armed and tough enough to make expressions of disapproval from the
population inadvisable. What was more, almost two years had elapsed
since her last visit. Turtle might have left during that time, or
have lost his position of authority. Should either have happened,
the trio might find it impossible to achieve their purpose. It
could even prove difficult for them to escape with their
lives.

Unfortunately, as the girl
and her companions realized, the presence of Charlie Slow-Down in
his usual position could not be regarded as conclusive evidence
that the man whom they were hoping to contact was available. While
the big Caddo Indian had acted as Turtle’s bodyguard, he could have
transferred his loyalties to the new owner if the San Phillipe
Hotel—by which grandiloquent name the establishment was known—had
changed hands. However, they were aware that it was too late for
them to turn back and attempt to satisfy their curiosity by some
other, safer, means.

Neither increasing nor
slowing their pace, although Tommy returned the arrow to his
quiver, the trio brought their mounts to a halt in front of the
building and at the unoccupied half of the hitching rail. While
doing so, they looked across at the half a dozen horses tethered on
the other side. There was nothing significant about the various
styles of saddles on the animals. It would be many years before the
low homed, double girthed rig—designed for the specialized needs of
the cattle industry as it would be practiced in the Lone Star
State
^xxxv
—became almost de rigueur for Texians. Many colonists still
used the outfits which they had brought with them, or sat Mexican
saddles purchased locally. On dismounting. Tommy hung the bow and
quiver over his saddle horn. Effective as they would have been in
the event of attempts to molest his party during the ride through
the town, he preferred to rely upon his
daisho
of swords when on foot and at
close quarters. However, Di and Ole Devil retained their rifles.
Nor did they set the hammers at half cock before, having hung their
reins over the hitching rail, they stepped on to the
sidewalk.