Ralph Compton Sixguns and Double Eagles (11 page)

“Maybe there is,” said Wes. “You can tell us everything you know about the man or men who sent you after us. For starters, who is Sam Brenner?”

“A politician involved with the gambling syndicate in New Orleans,” Louise said.

“A bought politician, then,” said Wes.

“Yes,” Louise replied. “The fancy house where we worked is fronted by Madam Lily English, and caters only to politicians, bankers, judges, and the like. Nobody just walks in off the street. The house is in the garden district, a respectable residential area.”

“If Madam English only fronts the place,” said Wes, “who owns it?”

“We have no idea,” Monique said. “We've heard the name Emo Hanks mentioned, but we met him only once. Madam English told us we had just two hours to board a steamboat. We were told we would receive money and instructions from Hanks.”

“And you did,” said Wes. “Did Hanks tell you what he had planned for us?”

“No,” Louise said. “Nothing was said about ... what happened last night. He only told us to get to know you on the steamboat, and somewhere—in Kansas City or Boulder—to get you in what he called a compromising position.”

“I reckon Madam English has been involved in that sort of thing before,” said Wes.

“Yes,” Louise said, “but this was the first time for Monique and me. We've heard talk among the other women about ... syndicates ... and how they win control of judges, bankers, politicians, and men in high places.”

“That tells us plenty about the varmints we're dealing with,” said Wes. “Get a man in bed with a fancy woman, and he's ripe for blackmail. They can own him or ruin him.”

“That's how we understood it,” Monique said. “I swear we had no idea we were about to involve ourselves in murder.”

“I can promise you it goes a lot deeper than blackmailing prominent men,” said Wes, “and it's important that they don't find either of you. This outfit kills within its own ranks and they'll be on our trail before we leave Kansas City.”

“Then we'll go immediately after this appearance in court,” Louise said. “Perhaps we can be on our way to Omaha before they learn about ... last night.”

They remained in the dining room until nine o‘clock, and going to the hotel lobby, found Deputy Sheriff Kilmer waiting for them.

“I have a hack waiting outside,” said Kilmer. “It will take you there and return you to the hotel afterward.”

Kilmer was mounted and rode along behind the hack. The distance wasn't great and they reached the courthouse at half past nine. The proceedings took only a few minutes, and after Deputy Sheriff Kilmer presented the evidence, the court accepted a plea of self-defense from Wes and El Lobo. After they had left the courtroom, Kilmer spoke.

“I reckon I'm done with you. Will you be stayin' in town?”

“No,” said Wes. “We're all leaving today.”

“Adios
then, and good luck,” Kilmer said, with an obvious sigh of relief.

“The hotel desk clerk should have a railroad and steamboat schedule,” said Wes. “Let's find out.”

“There's a steamboat departing for Omaha at eleven,” the clerk said, “and a westbound for Dodge City and points west at half past eleven.”

Wes summoned a hack for Louise and Monique, but they seemed reluctant to go.

“I wish we weren't parting company,” Louise said.

“So do I,” said Monique. “We may never see you again.”

“It's best if you don‘t,” Wes said. “Remember last night.”

“We'll never forget it,” said Louise.

Already their trunks had been loaded in the hack, and with sighs and good-byes they climbed aboard. Wes and El Lobo watched them out of sight.

“They tell us much,” said El Lobo. “What we do about Hanks?”

“Nothing we can do, now,” Wes replied. “Before we could return to New Orleans, he would be out of our reach. Better they don't know what Louise and Monique told us about Hanks. Maybe we'll get a chance at him later.”

“
Sí
,” said El Lobo, “if Monique and Louise no lie.”

“I think what happened last night scared the truth out of them,” Wes said. “Probably without realizing it, they told us how the forces of the Dragon gets and keeps men under its control. Trap a bank president, a judge, or a lawman in bed with a whore, and there's no end to the blackmail. I can see many an honest man turning crooked to save himself.”

“I get horses while you get
perro
,” said El Lobo.

“No,” Wes said. “Stay here in the lobby until I fetch Empty, and then we'll both go for the horses. The Dragon's had time to learn about last night's failed ambush, and there might be another before we reach the railroad depot.”

Empty had been too long confined to the hotel room, and he came down the stairs well ahead of Wes. Canrying their Winchesters, Wes and El Lobo headed for the livery stable in the next block. Saddling their horses, they rode to the AT & SF depot that Wes well remembered. The westbound stood ready on a side track, the big locomotive chuffing as it kept up steam. There was a tender, a baggage car, two passenger coaches, and a caboose.

“Damn,” said Wes, “there's no boxcar for the horses. Come on.”

“Sorry,” the clerk said when they went to get their tickets. “No boxcar's been ordered for this run.”

“Our horses are goin' with us,” Wes said.

“Then you'll have to lay over until tomorrow,” said the clerk. “It's too near departure time. I can order a boxcar for the westbound in the morning.”

“Then order one,” Wes growled. “Just to be sure that you do, we'll buy tickets now.”

Wes led the way toward the waiting train.

“Why we need tickets now?” El Lobo asked.

“We don‘t,” said Wes, “but somebody may be watching, and they don't know we won't be leaving on this train. Just before it pulls out, we'll enter one of the passenger cars and get out on the other side. It might buy us a little time to lose whoever might be trailing us.”

“
Bueno
,” El Lobo said.

Suddenly there were three shrill blasts of the locomotive's whistle.

“Come on,” said Wes. “She's leaving.”

Empty, having traveled with Nathan Stone, was no stranger to trains, and he didn't like them any more than he liked steamboats. In the urgency of the moment, Wes lifted him bodily aboard. As protection from the morning sun, the blinds were down on most of the windows, and leading the way, Wes headed for the front of the coach. On the opposite side of the car, passengers were entering. As soon as the steps were clear, Wes, El Lobo, and Empty bounded down them. The conductor watched in surprise as they ran toward the big locomotive. Ducking beneath the water tank, they quickly lost themselves behind stacks of railroad ties.

“
Bueno
,” said El Lobo.

“Don't get too excited,” Wes said. “We still have to make our way back beyond the depot, to our horses. But we'll stay here for a while, after the train pulls out. Might be a chance nobody saw us leave the train.”

“We don't know they trail us,” said El Lobo.

“No,” Wes said, “but it's a risk we can't afford to take.”

 

“We go back to hotel?”

“No,” said Wes. “We'll go to a different one. There's one much closer that the railroad men favor, and there's a livery across the street.”

Half an hour after the train had departed, they made their way back to the horses and went from there directly to the livery. It was a busy place, renting horses and hacks to passengers on incoming trains. Wes and El Lobo made arrangements for their horses for the night, then carefully made their way across the street to a two-story lodging house appropriately named The Depot Hotel. Next door to it was a café that never closed. Wes asked for and was assigned a room on the ground floor, near the lobby. Once inside their room, El Lobo bolted the door.

“Just on the chance we got here without being followed,” said Wes, “I think we'll stay put for a while. We can take supper and breakfast at the café next door and maybe lose ourselves among the railroad men.”

The hotel was less pretentious than the River Side, but it was comfortable. The clang of bells and the shriek of locomotive whistles kept Empty on edge for a while, but Wes and El Lobo had stretched out on the bed and slept soundly.

Eleven men had gathered in the one small room at the Dodge House. Ten were armed, some with twin Colts, all with Winchesters. The eleventh man, dressed in a dark suit and boiled shirt, might have been a banker or a lawyer. It was he who spoke.

“All of you stay out of the saloons and draw as little attention to yourselves as possible. Meet me here tomorrow at twelve noon, and I'll have word from Kansas City regarding the men you'll be looking for. They'll most surely be on tomorrow's westbound.”

“You said they was comin' today,” one of the armed men growled. “We done wasted a day, Grover.”

“That's Mr. Grover to you, Jernigan, and you're being paid by the job, not by the day. Once this pair is dead, each of you earns a thousand dollars, if it takes you a day or a week. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” said another of the armed men.

“All right, Dixon,” Grover said, “what is it?”

“Long as these
hombres
die, you don't care how we do the job?”

“No,” said Grover, “because if you botch the job and have to answer to the law or to the railroad, I never saw you before in my life.”

“Fair enough,” Dixon said, “but I ain't ridin' out to stop no train without some money up front. Hell, you may not be here when we get back.”

Grover laughed. “I'll have five hundred in double eagles for each of you tomorrow, and the other five hundred when you return. That is, after I'm satisfied you have earned it. Now leave here quietly, one at a time, and I don't want all of you stomping in here at the same time tomorrow. Remember, there'll be witnesses on that train, and the law will be questioning them.”

Jernigan laughed. “Maybe we'll just shoot the whole damn bunch.”

Grover said nothing, and one by one they left, closing the door behind them. When the last of them had departed, Grover locked the door and removed a leather suitcase from a closet. Opening it, he hefted the bag of double eagles, laughing to himself.

“You'll get your money,” said Grover. “All of it. But when you learn the value of it, if you do, I don't think you'll complain to the law.”

Except for meals, Wes and El Lobo remained in their room near the railroad depot until almost train time the following day, arriving with just enough time to see their horses safely aboard the boxcar. Besides the locomotive and tender, there was a baggage coach, the boxcar, two passenger coaches, and a caboose. While there were no ambush attempts, they were watched as they boarded the train, and the lone observer hurried to the telegraph office. With twin blasts from its whistle, the big locomotive lurched into motion as it headed west.

“They're aboard the westbound,” Grover told the assembled gunmen. “I want you to stop the train a hundred miles east of Dodge. I want none of the other passengers harmed and none of the railroad's men, if it can be avoided.”

“You don't expect much, do you?” said Dixon. “It'll be pitch dark—black as the inside of a stove pipe—by then. How do we tear up some of the track without derailin' the damn train?”

“You don't tear up the track,” Grover said in disgust. “A couple of you will board the moving train, pull guns on the fireman and engineer, and force them to stop. Now, must I draw you a picture, or can you take it from there?”

“We can do it,” said Dixon sullenly. “Where's our money?”

“Here,” Grover said, reaching under the bed for the bags of gold coins.

In turn, he counted out twenty-five double eagles to each of the men.

“Now,” said Jernigan, “when and where do we get the rest? How do we know you'll be here, when we've done the job?”

“I won't be here,” Grover said, “and none of you are to return here. Tomorrow night, I'll be at the Palace Hotel in Wichita.”

“Hell,” said Jernigan, “that's three hunnert miles from here.”

“Two hundred for you,” Grover said. “You're meeting the train a hundred miles east of Dodge. Now get out of here one or two at a time, and when the westbound gets here tonight, it better be haulin' the dead bodies of that pair of
pistoleros.”

 

“How far Dodge City?” El Lobo asked.

“It's about a ten-hour train ride,” said Wes. “We should be there tonight around nine o‘clock, unless somethin' delays us.”

The train stopped at Wichita, taking on water, passengers, and freight. Shadows crept over the plains, and at dusk a porter lighted the lamps in the passenger coaches. There were sandwiches at suppertime, and the westbound slowed slightly as darkness descended. Empty stirred restlessly as the wheels clicked over the coupling joints, and it was half past six when Wes looked at his watch. Suddenly Wes leaned forward, peering out the window into the darkness.

“What you see?” El Lobo asked.

“Man on a horse riding alongside the train,” said Wes. “This may be it,
amigo,
and it couldn't come at a worse time. Come on. We can't afford to be trapped in here. Some of these people will be killed. Maybe we can make it to the top of the coach.”