Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare (25 page)

“You're a bounty hunter, then,” said Steele.

“No,” Danielle said. “Last spring, a gang of outlaws robbed and murdered my pa. I have the names of those who are still alive. Gaddis and Byler, who robbed you, were part of the bunch I'm looking for. Another is Chancy Burke. All three men are from Waco, and they've been riding together. I have reason to believe they were working together on this robbery, and that they may be planning others.”

“But you have no proof,” said Steele.

“No,” Danielle said, “and that's why I'm here. I want you to help me get that proof.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“I think Gaddis and Byler are being fed information about these payroll shipments by someone on the inside,” said Danielle. “Someone who works for the railroad.”

“Now, see here,” Steele said, becoming indignant, “this is all speculation. The payrolls are all brought here from Fort Leavenworth. If there's a leak, it could well be coming from that end.”

“True,” said Danielle, “but not likely. Will you allow me to see a list of the names of the men who work for the railroad?”

“No,” Steele said. “I won't be a party to you killing someone purely on speculation and suspicion.”

“Then take the names of the outlaws I'm looking for, and compare them to those of the men working for the railroad,” Danielle said. “If none of these seven names appear on your roster, then I'll say no more.”

“I suppose I can do that,” said Steele.

Danielle handed him a sheet of paper on which she had written the names.

Steele studied the list, comparing it to his own. Finally, he looked up, and when he spoke, Danielle thought he seemed nervous, for his eyes didn't exactly meet hers.

“Nobody on your list works for the railroad,” he said.

Danielle sighed. “I'm sorry to have taken your time, Mr. Steele.”

Danielle closed the door behind her as she left the office. Steele waited until she was gone before he summoned a secretary. She looked at him questioningly, and he spoke.

“A few weeks ago we hired a freight handler, name of Chancy Burke. I want to see him here in my office, just as soon as possible.”

Steele waited, clenching and unclenching his fists. The Kansas-Pacific already had too much bad press as a result of the payroll robberies. The last thing the railroad needed was for word to get out that one of its own employees was in cahoots with the men who had robbed the train. When Chancy Burke entered the room, there was an arrogance in his manner that Steele didn't like. A Colt was tied down on his right hip, and despite his having been in town for several months, he still dressed like a down-at-the-heels cowboy.

“Burke,” said Steele, “I have it on good authority that you have been consorting with thieves and outlaws. I have learned that two of your closest companions—Rufe Gaddis and Julius Byler—may have gotten information from you on that payroll that was stolen. Do you have anything to say?”

“Not a damn thing,” Burke said, “except you got no proof. I deny doin' anything.”

“Then take a look at this,” said Steele, handing to him the names of the seven outlaws Danielle had given him.

Quickly, Burke read the list of names, and when he again faced Steele, he had lost much of his arrogance.

“So you throwed my name in with six other
hombres
I never heard of,” Burke said. “That don't prove anything.”

“I think it does,” Steele said. “I got this list from a young man who intends to kill all the men on that list, including you, and I don't want you involved with the railroad in any way when it happens. As of this moment, you're fired, and if you're still in town after today, I'll see that the sheriff knows what you've done. Now get out.”

“I'll go,” said Burke, “but before I do, I owe you something. You know too much, Mr. Railroad Man.”

Burke drew his Colt and fired twice, the slugs striking Steele in the chest. Burke then left the office on the run, exiting the building and making his way across the tracks to the railroad yard. His horse had been tied there, and he mounted in one leap, kicking the animal into a gallop. In the Kansas-Pacific offices there was total confusion. Women screamed and men cursed. One of the telegraphers ran to find the sheriff and a doctor, but Sheriff Barnes had already ridden out to the Winters place. Doctor Avery took one look at the bloody body of Alan Steele and shook his head.

“He died instantly,” said Doctor Avery. “This is a case for the sheriff.”

 

Sheriff Barnes didn't relish reporting Elmo's death, and his confrontation with Elmo's kin was even storm ier than he had expected.

“Fine damn sheriff you are,” Jubal Winters bawled.

“A man can't go to town for a friendly game of cards without bein' shot dead.”

“It wasn't what I'd call a friendly game,” said Sheriff Barnes. “Elmo had a mad on, for no other reason than he was a big loser. He shot a man without cause.”

“The other
hombre
was cheatin',” Ebeau Winters said.

“Not according to what the witnesses and the house dealer said,” the sheriff replied. “I had Elmo taken to the carpenter shop so a coffin could be built. Do you aim to come and get him, or will the county have to bury him?”

“We'll come and get him,” Jubal snarled. “We don't want a damn thing from you but the name of the bastard that killed Elmo.”

“So you can ride to town and raise hell,” said the sheriff. “No, I don't think so.”

“Then we'll find out on our own,” Jubal said. “The next damn coffin you build will be his.”

“Elmo's dead from a case of bad judgment,” said the sheriff, “and I'm asking you to let it go. If the two of you show up in town with killing on your minds, I swear I'll throw both of you in the
calabozo,
leaving you there till the Second Coming.”

With that, Sheriff Barnes rode away, fully aware of the whispered cursing of Jubal and Ebeau Winters. He had no doubt the pair would defy him, or that when they came for Elmo's body, they would come seeking vengeance. When Sheriff Barnes rode in, he had most of the town watching for him. One of the railroad's telegraphers got to him first.

“Sheriff, Alan Steele's been shot and killed in his office.”

Wearily, Sheriff Barnes nodded. He then rode toward the railroad terminal and began asking questions. He quickly learned that the young gunman who had shot Elmo Winters had been in Steele's office, and when he had left, Steele had sent for Chancy Burke, one of several newly hired freight handlers.

“So this
hombre
Burke did the killing,” Sheriff Barnes said.

“Yeah,” said one of the telegraphers. “After the shooting, I saw him running down the hall toward the back of the building, into the railroad yards. His horse is gone.”

Sheriff Barnes found the death list Danielle had given Steele on the floor behind Steele's desk. Burke's name was on that list, and Barnes believed it had been a factor in the killing of Steele. Daniel Strange had visited Steele in his office, and immediately following Daniel's leaving, Steele had sent for Chancy Burke. It was time for a serious talk with the young rider who had killed Elmo Winters, and Sheriff Barnes headed for the hotel where the wounded Jesse Burris had been taken.

 

Danielle found Herb waiting for her, and she broke the bad news.

“Well, damn, I reckon that does it,” said Herb.

“I don't think so,” Danielle said. “When Steele read those names from my list, I was watching his face. Something in his eyes told me he was lying when he said none of the men on my list worked for the railroad.”

“But without his help, there's nothing you can do,” said Herb.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Danielle's door.

“Who's there?” Danielle asked.

“Sheriff Barnes.”

Danielle opened the door, and Sheriff Barnes closed it behind him as he entered.

“You know my
amigo,
Herb Sellers, Sheriff,” said Danielle.

“Yes,” Sheriff Barnes said, “and he might want to leave the room. I have some serious questions to ask you.”

“Let Herb stay, Sheriff,” said Danielle. “I'll answer your questions.”

“I know you were in Alan Steele's office at Kansas-Pacific earlier this morning. Why?”

“I wanted a favor from him, which he denied,” Danielle said. “You knew I believed there might be an outlaw on the railroad payroll, feeding information to train robbers. I wanted Steele to let me go over a list of men who work for the railroad, but he refused. He requested that I give him a list of the suspects, which I did. He assured me that none of them worked for the railroad.”

“Is this the list?” Sheriff Barnes asked, holding out the sheet of paper.

“It is,” said Danielle. “Where did you get it?”

“I found it on the floor behind Steele's desk,” Sheriff Barnes said. “After you left, he had a freight handler, Chancy Burke, report to his office. Burke shot and killed him, and then ran for it.”

Danielle looked at Herb, and he seemed pleased. Danielle's suspicions had just been confirmed. But Sheriff Barnes wasn't finished. His eyes on Danielle, he came up with the question she had been expecting.

“The men on this list—why are you hunting them?”

“They robbed and murdered my pa in Indian Territory last spring,” Danielle said. “On my pa's grave, I swore I'd track them down, and that they'd all die.”

“What give you the idea that one of them worked for the railroad?” the sheriff asked.

“When I learned Rufe Gaddis and Julius Byler robbed a Kansas-Pacific train,” Danielle said. “Gad dis, Byler, and Burke are all from Waco, Texas, and usually ride together. I had an idea Burke had a hand in the robbery, and the only logical answer seemed that he must be working for the railroad.”

“Good thinking,” Sheriff Barnes said. “It's a damn shame Steele didn't use what he had learned to a better advantage. After that robbery, the railroad's a mite skittish, afraid of more bad publicity.”

“There'll be plenty of it now,” said Danielle. “There'll be no hiding the fact that the railroad hired a thief and a murderer. It won't help the confidence of the military if they aim to ship future payrolls.”

“I expect future payrolls to Dodge will go by wagon, with a military escort,” Barnes said. “It won't be as quick as by train, but the military can protect it better. How much of what you've told me do you intend to tell the newspapers?”

“None of it, if it can be avoided,” said Danielle.

“I'm afraid it can't,” Sheriff Barnes said. “Indi rectly, you were responsible for Steele's death, but it wasn't your fault that he used your information as he did. Still, it's expected of the law to come up with a motive for the killing, and I can't do that without you. The newspaper people are already at Kansas-Pacific, and they're going to be told that you were in Steele's office just before he sent for Chancy Burke. What will you tell them?”

“The truth, I reckon,” Danielle said. “You have the list that I gave Steele, and Chancy Burke's name is on it. We can piece together the rest.”

“Except for one thing,” said Sheriff Barnes. “Why did Burke shoot Steele? Being fired is one thing, but I can't understand the need to kill a man. Steele wasn't even armed. I'm at a loss to explain why Burke didn't accept his dismissal and just quietly ride away. It seems that's probably what Steele expected. Now there'll be a murder charge against him.”

There came a knock on Danielle's door.

“Who is it?” Danielle asked.

“Newspaper reporter,” said the voice.

“You might as well get it over with,” Sheriff Barnes said.

Danielle went to the door and let the man in. He was tall and thin, and had a nervous twitch. His head darted back and forth like that of an inquisitive rooster. But there was nothing slow about him.

“I'm Jud Dubose,” he said, “and I'm here regarding the shooting of Alan Steele earlier today. You were in Steele's office just ahead of Chancy Burke, and we believe something you said or did caused Steele to summon Burke to the office. Would you tell me just how you fit into all this?”

“Yes,” said Danielle, and she repeated everything she had told Sheriff Barnes.

“So Steele tried to cover it up, handling Burke on his own,” Dubose said, “and Burke shot and killed him. May I see that death list you gave Steele to compare with names of employees on the railroad's payroll?”

“No,” said Danielle. “Why should I allow you to publish it in the newspaper when it would only make things more difficult for me? These outlaws would change their names.”

“That's suppressing evidence,” Dubose said.

“Wrong,” said Sheriff Barnes. “You can mention the list, and that Chancy Burke is one of the names on it, and it was he who did the shooting. But the rest of the names aren't any of your business. You know the motive, and you know the killer.”

Clearly, Dubose didn't like it, but even without the rest of the names on the list, he had his story. Bowing to them all, he got up and left the hotel room.

“I'm obliged, Sheriff,” Danielle said.

“You got enough trouble already,” Sheriff Barnes said. “I rode out this morning to the Winters's place. Jubal and Ebeau are killing mad and are vowing revenge. Was I you, I'd stay close to the hotel for a while.”

 

Chancy Burke rode to the outskirts of town, where he had a room in a cheap boardinghouse. To his surprise, he found his door unlocked. Drawing and cocking his Colt, he then kicked the door open. Rufe Gaddis and Julius Byler sat on the bed.