Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare (35 page)

“All right, I'll admit my argument with Daniel Strange is twofold. I want him silenced permanently before he endangers my position here, and I want him to pay for killing my son. I'll pay you five hundred dollars.”

“Double that,” Kalpana said, “and we'll talk.”

“Half now, and half when the job's done,” said McCandless.

“Deal,” Kalpana said. “Show me your money.” From a desk drawer McCandless took a small canvas sack and he counted out twenty-five gold double eagles. He shoved the money across the desk to Kalpana.

“Now,” said McCandless, “when do you aim to take care of him?”

“Soon as I can find him and force him to pull iron,” Kalpana said.

Kalpana then left the office, mounted his horse, and rode back to join his companions, Dirk and Malo. Danielle followed. Kalpana reached the boardinghouse, mounted the outside stairs, and knocked on the door. He was let in, and Danielle settled down to wait. Whatever the trio did, it seemed highly unlikely they would remain in their room very long.

“Well,” said Dirk when Kalpana entered, “I see you met the old grizzly and come out with a whole hide.”

“I done considerably better than that,” Kalpana boasted. “McCandless wants this Daniel Strange to pay for killing that fool kid, Reece. He wants it bad enough to pay me for the job. That's a thousand in gold.”

“That's somethin' to your credit,” said Dirk, “pro vided this kid don't kill
you.
He's as fast as anybody I've ever seen, and he leads a charmed life.”

“Yeah,” Malo agreed, “and I reckon McCandless didn't tell you that his fool kid tried to shoot Strange in the back. McCandless wouldn't draw, and when Strange turned his back on McCandless, the yellow coyote went for his gun. But Strange was expecting that. He hit the dirt, and all three shots McCandless fired missed. Then the kid shot him dead.”

“He won't have to worry about turning his back on me,” said Kalpana. “I'll face him in an even fight. Where do I find him?”

“Generally at the American Saloon,” Dirk said. “He's as lucky at the faro table as he is behind a gun.”

“The saloon don't open for another two hours,” said Malo. “You might as well take a rest until then.”

 

Danielle waited impatiently, realizing the trio probably wouldn't venture out until the saloons opened. In Brownsville there was absolutely nothing to do except frequent the saloons, drinking and gambling. It was a few minutes past noon when the trio left on foot. By the time they reached town, the saloons would be open. Reaching the American, they went inside. Danielle waited a few minutes before following. She went in through the batwing doors, stepping aside until her eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior. Besides the trio of outlaws who had just entered, there were four other men bellied up to the bar.

“That's Daniel Strange that just come in,” Dirk said quietly. “He must have followed Malo and me across the border and then followed the three of us back to Brownsville. He must want you almighty bad.”

“I'm still not convinced he ain't a ranger,” said Kalpana, “but they can't string me up any higher for killing a second one. You, there by the door. I'm Kalpana, and I hear you have been looking for me. Is it asking too much for you to tell me why,
señor
?”

When Danielle spoke, her voice was low and deadly, and even in the gloom of the saloon, her eyes were like green fire.

“You and your bunch of yellow coyotes hanged my pa in Indian Territory last spring. I'm going to give you more of a chance than you gave him.”

“No gunplay in here,” the barkeep shouted, taking a sawed-off shotgun from beneath the bar. “I'll cut down the first one of you makin' a move. Take your fight outside.”

None of the three outlaws moved. Quickly, Danielle stepped through the batwing doors to the boardwalk outside. Crossing to the other side of the dusty street, she leaned against a hitch rail, waiting. Snakehead Kalpana stepped out on the boardwalk, his two companions moving out of the line of fire. Something about an impending disaster drew men like flies to a honey jug, and observers were already everywhere, some of them looking out upstairs windows for a better view.

“When you're ready, Kalpana,” said Danielle, still leaning against the hitch rail.

A chill crept up Kalpana's spine. The kid was just too confident. But Kalpana had taken money for the job, and he had placed himself in a position where he dared not back down.

“This will be a fair fight,” Sheriff Duro shouted. “Any man pullin' a gun besides these two and I'll gun you down myself.”

Most of the observers were aware that Kalpana was an undesirable who had killed a Texas Ranger, and they waited in anticipation. Eyes darted from Kalpana to Danielle, and back again. Danielle made no move, for Kalpana had issued the challenge. It would be up to him when he chose to draw. Finally, just when it appeared he might not draw, he did. He was fast. Incredibly fast. But Danielle Strange was faster. Without seeming to move, the butt-forward Colt from her left hip was in her hand, spouting flame. Her first slug ripped into Kalpana's chest as he pulled the trigger, and his shot went wild. Stumbling backward, he leaned against the saloon's front wall, raising his Colt. Danielle fired again, and Kalpana collapsed on the boardwalk. Her eyes on the bystanders, Danielle punched out the empty shell casings and reloaded her Colt, returning the weapon to its holster on her left hip.

There was murmuring among the crowd who had observed the fight, and Danielle chose to wait until it subsided before making a move. Sheriff Duro came to her aid.

“All of you break it up and get back to what you was doing,” Duro shouted.

Dirk and Malo stared in disbelief at the body of Snakehead Kalpana.

“By God, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it,” Dirk said.

“Me neither,” said Malo. “I've never seen a cross-hand draw as fast as that. I wouldn't go up against that little hellion with anything less than a Gatling gun.”

Sheriff Duro had Kalpana's body taken to the carpenter shop, where a coffin would be built. He then returned to the bank building and knocked on the door to McCandless's office.

“Come in,” McCandless said.

Sheriff Duro closed the door before he spoke.

“Kalpana's dead,” said Sheriff Duro. “This Daniel Strange is the fastest gun I ever saw. He didn't get a scratch. What do we do now?”

“Kalpana had five hundred dollars of my money in gold,” McCandless said. “I want it back.”

“I took it off him,” said Sheriff Duro, digging a handful of coins from his pocket.

The sheepish look on Duro's face told McCandless that the sheriff had intended to keep the money, but McCandless let it pass. Feeling the need to change the subject, it was the sheriff who spoke.

“Strange has done what he come here to do. He'll be leaving.”

“He won't be goin' anywhere,” McCandless said. “I want you to find me a dozen men, all good with guns. I'll pay fifty dollars a day and provide ammunition. The man who guns down Daniel Strange gets a thousand-dollar bonus.”

“Kalpana was no slouch with a Colt,” said Sheriff Duro, “and him layin' dead may make it hard as hell finding gunmen to go after the kid.”

“I'm leaving that up to you, and I want it done today,” McCandless said. “We have to get the kid before he rides on.”

“I'll do the best I can,” said Sheriff Duro. “You want me to send these
hombres
to see you?”

“Hell no,” McCandless growled. “The last thing I want is a bunch of killers coming to and from here.” He handed Sheriff Duro a canvas sack. “There's six hundred and fifty dollars in here. That's enough for a first day's pay for a dozen men, and fifty dollars for you to buy the necessary ammunition.”

It was clear enough, and Sheriff Duro had his hand on the doorknob when McCandless spoke again.

“One more thing. I want you to telegraph every Texas Ranger outpost. Tell them that Snakehead Kalpana, who killed the ranger in Laredo, is dead. That should keep them away from here.”

“There's a price on his head,” said Sheriff Duro. “Suppose they want proof?”

“Then they'll have to dig up his carcass and study it to their satisfaction,” McCandless said. “If they got to know who killed him, all you know is that it was a gunslinger who was passing through and has since rode on.”

“Yeah,” said Sheriff Duro, “you're layin' it all on my back. The damn rangers are goin' to wonder how long Kalpana's been here, and why, when he got his, it was at the hand of another outlaw.”

“Then damn it, tell the truth,” McCandless snarled. “Tell 'em it was a revenge killing for Kalpana's part in a murder in Indian Territory. That won't reflect on us, and we'll see that they don't find Daniel Strange. Now get going.”

 

Danielle returned to the Delaney house, let down and without any sense of triumph. It had been the anticipation of avenging her father's death that had led her on, but when a man, even the likes of Snakehead Kalpana, lay dead, she was strangely remorseful. To her mind came some Bible scripture she had learned long ago:
Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.
She found Ephiram and Ethel Delaney on the front porch.

“We heard shootin',” Ephiram said. “We wondered if you was involved.”

“I was,” said Danielle. “Snakehead Kalpana heard I was looking for him and came after me. I reckon I'll be ridin' on tomorrow.”

“We'll miss you,” Ethel said. “I hate to rent to this dirty, unwashed bunch around here and from across the border. I'd swear some of 'em ain't had a bath since the flood.”

“Wake me for supper,” Danielle said. “I'm going upstairs to rest.”

“I didn't want to say anything,” said Ephiram when Danielle had gone, “but I simply can't believe old man McCandless won't try something to avenge his no-account son. This young man, Daniel Strange, ought to be riding out today, getting as far from here as he can.”

“It's curious you should speak of that,” Ethel said. “I'm wondering if somebody didn't
pay
Kalpana to kill Daniel Strange. Someone with a reason for wanting Daniel dead.”

“We know who that someone is,” said Ephiram, “and it's best we say no more about it. We got to live here.”

Removing her boots, gun belts, and hat, Danielle stretched out on the bed. Dead tired, she found herself unable to sleep, for a sense of foreboding had her in its clutches and wouldn't let go. After several hours she got up. Donning her hat, tugging on her boots, and buckling on her gun belts, she went downstairs. There was no sign of Ephiram, but Ethel was in the parlor.

“Do be careful,” Ethel warned. “It may not be over.”

“That's what I aim to find out,” said Danielle. “I'll be back for supper.”

The town seemed strangely silent. Danielle visited some of the saloons, receiving only curious looks. Meanwhile, Sheriff Duro had a dozen hard-eyed men crammed into his small office. They leaned against the walls, avoiding the windows. Every man packed at least one revolver, while some had two.

“Fifty dollars a day, plus ammunition,” Sheriff Duro said, “and I got your first day's pay. All you got to do is gun down this Daniel Strange. The
hombre
that cuts his string gets a thousand-dollar bonus.”

“I reckon we know who's bankrollin' this,” said one of the men. “I think the
hombre
we're bein' paid to kill done the town a favor. I ain't never liked McCandless's big-mouthed kid.”

“Me neither,” another man said.

“This is business,” said Sheriff Duro. “Money business.”

“Well, I ain't about to brace this Daniel Strange in no standup, face-to-face fight,” one of the men said. “Kalpana was a fast gun, but he didn't have a prayer.”

“Nobody said you got to face him,” Sheriff Duro said. “Hell, there ain't nothin' honorable about bushwhacking a man. Shoot him in the back.”

“I've seen some dirty, stinking, low-down coyotes in my day,” said one of the men, “but this is the first time I've seen a lawman pay to have a man dry gulched.”

“This is a wide-open town,” Sheriff Duro said, “and things are done different here. If it wasn't for me and certain others, the whole damn lot of you would be rotting behind bars somewhere. If this Daniel Strange is allowed to ride out of here, he's likely to go to the nearest ranger outpost and tell them he gunned down Kalpana. Rangers have a way of figurin' things out. They're likely to wonder how long Kalpana was here, without the law layin' a hand on him, and how many more there may be just like him.”

“I reckon that makes sense,” said one of the gunmen. “We got to stop the varmint.”

There was mostly agreement among the rest of the outlaws, except for Malo and Dirk.

“Duro,” said Dirk, “you'd better be right. If I end up with my neck in a noose, I aim to see that you're hanging beside me from the same damn limb.”

“Damn right,” Malo said. “You ain't pullin' the trigger, but you're as much a killer as any one of us.”

Sheriff Duro swallowed hard. If the worst happened, and Daniel Strange escaped, the town might be invaded by a company of Texas Rangers. Simon McCandless had wisely used Duro to arrange the killing of Daniel Strange, and would in no way be implicated, unless Sheriff Duro talked. He quickly reached the unhappy conclusion that even if he talked, he would still be neck-deep in trouble. There was no way he could accuse McCandless of anything without admitting that he, Duro, had arranged it.