Ralph Compton Sixguns and Double Eagles Page 5

  “Act on orders from our agents. Stop. Place under military arrest person or persons so designated. Stop. Tight security and around clock guard until further contact.”

  Silver signed his name, along with his title from the office of the attorney general. He then headed for the agency’s telegraph office.

  Conversation had soon dwindled away to nothing as Wes, El Lobo, and Captain Powers awaited a response. Three-quarters of an hour passed before the telegraph instrument began chattering for permission to send. Wes granted permission and then took down the message as it came over the wire. Without a word, he passed the message to the captain.

  “I know Silver,” Captain Powers said after reading the message. “I once hauled him from Barnabas McQueen’s ranch in a wagon, after he’d been shot.”5

  “It’s good that you know him,” said Wes, “because we’ve been sworn to secrecy and I can’t tell you what this is all about. But you know it’s serious business, or Silver wouldn’t be involved in it.”

  “That I do,” Powers said, “but there’s a problem. Like I told you, this is a small outpost, and we have only six men. Sergeant Gaines and I are on duty this weekend, and I’ 11 be unable to secure added manpower until tomorrow. Do we have that much time?”

  “I don’t know,” Wes said. “El Lobo and me visited the hombre in question today, and were ambushed as we knocked on his door. After that, having our suspicions of him, we ran into another fight with three gunmen. We were looking for a telegraph office when we saw you, and we can’t be sure we weren’t followed here.”

  “Then it’s far more serious than I imagined,” said Powers. “In my judgment, I’d say we should delay further action until in the morning, when I’ll have additional manpower. If you will send the message, I’ll wire Silver.”

  Powers wrote a brief message and Wes sent it. An hour passed without response.

  “I reckon he’s in agreement with you,” Wes said. “We might as well return to our rooming house, if we can.”

  But Wes Stone’s suspicions were more real than he realized. They had been followed. As Wes and El Lobo stepped out the door, lead splintered the door frame. A second slug tore into El Lobo’s upper left arm as they scrambled back inside the military office. Three more times the rifle spoke, slamming lead into the door.

  “Off with your shirt,” Powers ordered El Lobo. “We have a medicine chest. Sergeant Gaines can see to your wound.”

  The slug had missed the bone, and Gaines disinfected and bandaged the wound.

  “Under the circumstances,” said Powers, “I believe the two of you should remain here for the night. There are bunks in the next room.”

  “But our horses are outside,” Wes said, “and my dog’s with them.”

  “I’ll stable the horses,” said Sergeant Gaines, “and the dog can come in, if he wants.”

  There came a knock on the door, and when Sergeant Gaines opened it, there stood a man wearing a star. Eyeing the bullet holes and splintered door frame, he spoke.

  “I’m Deputy Sheriff Baxter. Somebody said there’s been shooting.”

  “Yes,” Captain Powers said quickly, “but no harm done. There’s always harassment from some who are dissatisfied with the military. Let it go.”

  Seeming relieved, the deputy turned away.

  “I’ll stable the horses now,” said Sergeant Gaines.

  Cautiously he opened the door, but there was no more shooting.

  “This sort of thing doesn’t often happen in town,” Captain Powers said. “I expect the gunman didn’t like attracting the attention of the law.”

  “The bunch we’re after don’t seem all that concerned with the law,” said Wes. “We’ve been shot at three different times today, and the first lawman we’ve seen is the deputy who just left here.”

  “We don’t involve ourselves in anything except possible threats to the federal government,” Powers said, “so I’m not all that aware of the effectiveness of local authorities. I’m aware, however, that gambling interests in New Orleans seem to flourish. Only when they step over the line, involving themselves in crimes against the Union do we take action. It was just such a situation, a few years ago, that brought me in contact with your father and Bryan Silver. They broke up a gambling syndicate involved in white slavery, the selling of American women in Mexico.”6

  “I heard about that from Silver himself,” said Wes.

  “I’ll have Sergeant Gaines bring supper to you,” Powers said. “Three attempted bushwhackings in one day is more than enough.”

  “We’re obliged,” said Wes. “We should get started in the morning as early as possible. I have the feeling that time is important.”

  Elsewhere in New Orleans, Emo Hanks glared angrily at Eads, Ansco, and Dobie, the three gunmen he had sent after Wes Stone and El Lobo. Eads had a bandage on his arm, while Dobie wore a similar one around his head.

  “Three attempts,” Hanks shouted, “and three failures. Is that the best you can do?”

  “Damn it,” said Ansco, “this is a slippery pair. They ain’t no shorthorns, and they can shoot like hell wouldn’t have it. We had ‘em pinned down once, without their rifles, and they come after us with pistols. That’s when Dobie and Eads was hit.”

  “And the three of you ran,” Hanks said in disgust. “Why didn’t you shoot it out? You ain’t paid to run when the shootin’ starts.”

  “Hell, they was riders comin’ to investigate all the shootin‘,” said Ansco defensively. “You told us to get away ahead of the law.”

  “So they’re holed up in town, at the federal outpost,” Hanks said.

  “Yeah,” said Ansco. “I fired a few shots as they was about to leave, and they went back inside. I nicked one of ‘em, but when the law showed up, I backed off.”

  “A Union officer can make military arrests,” Hanks said, “and them showin’ up there is bad news for us. I have another job for you, and it can be done under cover of darkness. Here’s what I want you to do, sometime before dawn ...”

  Sergeant Gaines brought Wes and El Lobo food for supper, and a portion for Empty.

  “I’ll be bunking in the outer office,” said Gaines.

  “Sorry to keep you here overnight,” Wes said.

  “Orders from Captain Powers,” said Gaines. “It goes with the job.”

  The night dragged on, and despite the apparent safety, Wes and El Lobo had trouble sleeping. Twice Empty faced the door, growling at something real or imaginary.

  “No like this,” El Lobo said. “We be trapped in here.”

  “Not unless they decide to burn down a federal outpost,” said Wes. “The real danger may come tomorrow, when we leave here for Oliver Reed’s place.”

  “Per‘ap they kill him,” El Lobo said.

  “That’s a troublesome possibility,” said Wes, “and it would spoil our chances of doing anything more in New Orleans, unless we can pin something on DeShazo or Morgan.”

  New Orleans. October 14, 1884.

  Captain Powers arrived at dawn, shortly ahead of the rest of his command, which consisted of a corporal and three privates.

  “Sergeant Gaines,” said Powers, “you will remain here. The rest of you men load your weapons and come with me.”

  “We’re going after a man name of Oliver Reed,” Wes said. “There likely won’t be any trouble with Reed, but maybe an ambush along the way.”

  If any of the men recognized Reed by his name, they said nothing, following Captain Powers as he led the way to a nearby stable. Empty lagged behind, with Wes and El Lobo. The seven of them saddled up and rode out, with Wes and El Lobo leading the way. Long before they reached the neighborhood where Reed lived, they could see the dirty gray of smoke against the blue of the sky. When they came within sight of the house, there was only a smoldering ruin. Men stood on the sidewalk and in the street.

  “They kill him,” said El Lobo.

  “My God,” Powers said.

  The seven men reined up and at sight of the soldiers
the curiosity seekers started backing away. Captain Powers halted them with a word.

  “Do any of you know anything about this?”

  “Nothin‘,” a bystander said. “I live over yonder, and was woke up by what sounded like dynamite. Time I got outside, the place was afire beyond help.”

  “Somebody’s gone after the law,” another man volunteered.

  Powers shook his head. His men following, he rode away from the crowd, reining up to wait for Wes and El Lobo.

  “Sorry,” said Powers. “We should have come here yesterday.”

  “We have two more possibilities,” Wes said. “Their names are DeShazo and Morgan.”

  Chapter 3

  When Wes, El Lobo, and the soldiers reached the Morgan house, there was no sign of life. Captain Powers pounded on the door but there was no response.

  “Something’s wrong here,” Wes said. “Let’s go in.”

  “Legally, we can‘t,” said Powers. “Not without a search warrant.”

  “We’re going,” Wes said, “legal or not.”

  “We won’t stop you,” said Powers. “If you enter, we’ll follow.”

  Wes eased the door open and entered a hall that led to a parlor, which was deserted. From there they could see a dining room and kitchen, also deserted.

  “That leaves only the bedrooms,” Wes said.

  “Then you’ll have to go alone,” said Powers. “If there’s nothing out of order here, the lot of us could be court-martialed.”

  Wes started down the hall, El Lobo following. When they came to a door, they stood there a moment, listening. Slowly Wes turned the knob and the door swung open. Through a window sunlight streamed in, allowing them to see a man and a woman in bed.

  “Por Dios,” El Lobo whispered, “they sleep.”

  “No,” said Wes, who had gone closer, “there’s blood on the covers. They’re dead.”

  Quietly Wes and El Lobo retraced their steps to the parlor, where Captain Powers and his men nervously waited.

  “Captain,” Wes said, “you’d better have a look. These people are dead.”

  “Remain here,” said Powers to his men.

  He followed Wes and El Lobo to the bedroom. Wes drew back the covers enough to reveal the gunshot wounds.

  “My God,” Powers said, “they were both shot twice, and never knew what hit them.”

  “‘This will have to be reported to the law,” said Wes, “and you’ll have to do it without involving El Lobo and me.”

  “Leaving me in a difficult position,” Powers said, “because legally I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “You can get authorization from Washington, if need be,” said Wes. “We still haven’t been to the DeShazo place.”

  “Very well,” Powers said. “We’ll accompany you, but if you enter the house, you’ll go alone. We’ll take your word for anything you discover inside. I do not feel justified, involving myself and my command any deeper in deadly circumstances, when I know so little.”

  “I understand your position, Captain,” said Wes, “and we’re obliged for your patience.”

  They reached the DeShazo place, and were able to ride in behind the house, where they dismounted. They couldn’t be seen from the street, and there were trees and undergrowth where they could conceal their horses.

  “You and your men remain with the horses, Captain,” Wes said. “El Lobo and me will take it from here.”

  Wes knocked on the back door repeatedly, but there was no response. Trying the knob, he found the door locked.

  “Madre de Dios,” said El Lobo, who was looking through a kitchen window.

  He had gotten the attention of Captain Powers, who had reached the window ahead of Wes.

  “It won’t be necessary to enter the house,” Powers said.

  The man and woman lay facedown on the kitchen floor, blood staining the back of their nightclothes. They were dead without question, for they had been shot repeatedly.

  “Six dead in a matter of hours,” said Wes. “You can see what we’re up against.”

  “Yes,” Powers said, “and I don’t envy you. Where do you go from here?”

  “It’s just as well you don’t know, Captain,” said Wes. “Someday, when this is finished, maybe we can sit down to a good meal and tell you what it was all about.”

  “I’d like that,” Powers said. “You’re enough like your father until I won’t be surprised if you accomplish what you’ve set out to do. What shall I tell Silver?”

  “Tell him all questionable parties to be arrested are dead,” said Wes. “El Lobo and me will leave you here.”

  “Good luck,” Powers said.

  Emo Hanks regarded his three henchmen with some satisfaction.

  “We took care of the Reed place first,” said Ansco. “We went next to Morgan‘s, and then to DeShazo’s. Won’t none of them be talkin’.”

  “I hope you had the good sense to accomplish it without being seen,” Hanks said.

  “Of course we wasn’t seen,” said Ansco in an aggrieved voice. “Hell, it was pitch dark and we didn’t strike a light.”

  “What about them troublesome gunslingers,” Dobie asked. “You want us to get back on their trail?”

  “Eventually,” said Hanks, “but not yet. With Reed, Morgan, and DeShazo silenced, they can’t hurt us here. They’ll be movin’ on, and once they’re out of town, they’re fair game. Let them get far enough away so there’s no law and no military to get curious.”

  “Suppose they take a steamboat,” Eads said. “You want us to follow?”

  “No,” said Hanks, “they’ll be expecting that. If they just ride out, then follow them and gun them down. Should they leave by steamboat, they’ll have to load their horses well ahead of the time the boat leaves. Soon as you know they’re going by steamboat, hightail it here and let me know. I have other plans.”

  “There won’t be a boat goin’ north until tomorrow,” Ansco said. “You want us to take some more shots at them while they’re in town?”

  “Only if you can do it without answering to the law,” said Hanks. “Unless they ride out today, that probably means they’ll be taking the steamboat tomorrow. See that you don’t botch things up. If you can’t find a good time and place for an ambush, then leave it alone. Get picked up by the law, and you’re on your own.”

  When Wes and El Lobo left Captain Powers and his men, they chose a roundabout way to the stable, where they would leave their horses. They unsaddled the animals, and leaving the stable, looked warily around.

  “If we can get back to our room at the boardinghouse,” said Wes, “we’ll stay there until we have to take the horses aboard the steamboat tomorrow.”

  “Sí,” El Lobo said. “They don’t shoot at us now.”

  “No reason for them to,” said Wes. “They’ve eliminated everybody who might have been a threat to them here. Now they’ll have to start over, but from what Silver said, they won’t waste any time. We can’t wait to see what’s goin’ to happen here, when they’re goin’ strong elsewhere.”

  “Where we go now?”

  “Nevada,” Wes said. “There’s a mint at Carson City, and it’s the next obvious place. I don’t understand the situation in Carson City, or their activity there. It’s not that far on to San Francisco. There’s a mint in ‘Frisco, and it’s right on the coast, so why are they involved with the mint in Nevada, which is so far inland?”

  “Steamboat don’t go to Nevada,” said El Lobo.

  “No,” Wes said. “We can take a steamboat to Kansas City and the train as far west as Boulder, Colorado. From there we’ll have to ride.”

  “Bueno,” said El Lobo. “We have time to see if Dragon follow us.”

  “I doubt they’ll have to follow us to know where we’re going,” Wes said. “They know that we know where the trouble spots are, and Nevada’s next. They might just wait until we reach Boulder, or they might try and ambush us along the way. We’ll just have to be prepared. If everything goes well, we’ll
spend a night in Dodge. If Harley Stafford’s still with the railroad, I’d like to see him again. He’s Vivian’s brother. He was a friend of my father‘s, which I didn’t know, until Vivian told me. Harley taught me the telegraph code, how to use a gun, and got me a job with the railroad.”

  “He bueno amigo,” said El Lobo.

  “That, and more,” Wes replied. “A man can’t have too many friends quick with a gun. All too often, those who are quick on the trigger are looking for a reputation at somebody else’s expense. You end up shooting people you don’t even know, just to save your own hide.”

  “We already do that,” said El Lobo. “We leave two hombres in river that we never see before.”

  “Yes,” Wes agreed, “and we may end up shooting some more before we board that steamboat tomorrow.”

  But they reached the boardinghouse and entered their room without incident. Empty took his place beneath the window. Removing hats, gunbelts, and boots, Wes and El Lobo stretched out on the bed to await supper. A few minutes before five, they made their way to the dining room.

  “We missed you at supper last night, breakfast this morning, and dinner at noon,” said Garret.

  “We spent last night with some friends,” Wes replied. “Our business here is finished, and we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

  “Then we’ll owe you money,” said Garret. “You’re paid up for a week.”

  “Just credit us for that,” Wes said, “and next time we’re here, we’ll visit you again.”

  “Do that,” said Garret, “and we hope your stay in New Orleans has been pleasant.”

  “Our stay with you has been more than pleasant,” Wes said.

  El Lobo grinned, and Wes was careful not to look him in the eye.

  The northbound steamboat was scheduled to depart at one o‘clock in the afternoon, so Wes and El Lobo arrived at the landing at eleven, to make arrangements to board their horses. Seeing nobody suspicious, they then paid for their passages.

  “They took their horses to the landing,” Ansco reported. “They’re takin’ the boat, like you figured. We might still get close enough for a few shots before they board.”