Read Buchanan's Revenge Online

Authors: Jonas Ward

Buchanan's Revenge (5 page)

"Help yourself, boys!" Leech roared, pointing with the
tortilla to a marble-topped table containing more jugs,
quarts of white corn and dark bourbon. "Help yourself
to anything!" he added with ear-shattering hospitality,
waving the tortilla around with nice indiscrimination at
his assortment of women.

"I, ah, could do with a little drink," Ezra Owens said,
crossing the threshold of the big, airy room. "Been a long,
hot trip."

"You said it, brother! Well, come on in, boys! Nobody
gonna eat you!" A wolfish grin parted the red beard. "Not yet!" he added, then laughed with a kind of uproarious
ominousness.

"We don't eat 'em, do we, Lash?" he asked
one of his lazily reclining lieutenants.

"Sure don't, Big Red," Lash Wall answered. "Not till
you
give the word." As he spoke his sardonic gaze was on Brans
o
n, measuringly.

"We respect your word, Leech," the merchant said.
"We know we'll come to no harm here."

"You said it, brother! Safe as church in Fort Leech!"
"Then
he laughed again, disturbingly.
"Which is just what
it u
sed to be!" he boomed. Leech ordered two of the girls
to make drinks, which they served in sterling silver cups
th
at
h
ad once graced a hacienda in San Carlos. The
del
egates from Brownsville took them, tried not to stare
at
th
e jutting breasts. All but Bronsen were regulars of
Maude's on Harbor Street, men of the world, but there
was a somewhat exotic difference about the nudity here
th
at made them feel inadequate, shy as schoolboys. Ed
couldn't shake the weird sensation that he had
stepped
from the stagecoach into a tale from the Arabian
Nights.

"C
o
min' on siesta time!"
Leech
said in his powerful,
blast
ing voice. "What's the deal
—a bank?"


A
b
ank?" Bronsen repeated.

"T
hat
was the proposition down in Laredo," Leech said,
Jasper w
anted me to rob the bank." He roared a laugh.
“Sent
Lash down to nose around. Y'know what? It was
the
damn
jasper's own bank. He'd picked it clean and wan
te
d me to pull his iron out of the fire."

"Did you?" Ezra Owens asked.

“Like
hell, brother! But we touched the jasper up some
. How
much, Lash?"

“Five
thousand, seven hundred and fifty dollars," Lash
answered
boredly. "Heard later he hung himself."


The wages of sin, boys! Is it a bank job?"

"Cer
t
ainly not," Bronsen answered stiffly. "Everyone
o
f
us
has shares in the Bank of Brownsville. We built it
from nothing.”


Then you want
the law took off your
back?" Leech said.
"
Like we do
ne two years ago up to Del Rio for the gam
blers.”

“I heard ru
mors about that," Ed Boone said hollowly.
“Was that
when you killed Sheriff Genova and his
two deputies?”

"For how much?" Leech asked his man.

"A thousand a man," Lash answered in the same in
different voice.

"With satisfaction guaranteed, boys," Leech said, "or it don't cost a red cent. That your problem
—too much
law?"

"No," Bronsen said. "It's much bigger than that, Leech.
Bigger stakes, I wager, than anything you've been of
fered."

"Then spill it, brother! This is when I siesta!"

"Could we, ah, have a little more privacy? It's hard
to speak freely with such, ah, distractions."

"You said it, brother! Everybody vamoose. Out!"

The girls and the other man left immediately. Lash
Wall stayed as he was, sat a little straighter, perhaps, with the six-gun easier to get at. The visitors from Brownsville
found seats for themselves and Bronsen began talking.

"What do you know about the Mexican trade, Leech?"

"That it's boomin' down your way, brother."

"Do you know any figures
—say for the past two
months?"

"Hell, that ain't my line!"

"One hundred thousand dollars," Bronsen said, "in
cotton alone."

"Say, that's all right!" Leech said, exchanging a sly
glance with Lash Wall that made Ezra Owens' heart skip
a beat.

"No, Leech, it isn't all right at all," Bronsen told him.
"Of that hundred thousand we realized less than half. The
rest went to the Mexican officials
—the governor, the politi
cians, the generals—every man who could get his hand in
our pocket."

"Why, the dirty jackals!" Leech protested piously.

"Yes," Bronsen agreed, "and we've decided that i
t’
s
high time we had a free trade over the border. We want to
be able to ship our goods and make our fair profit."

"That's my motto, brother! Get your fair share every
time. So what are you gonna do about it?"

"Our plan is twofold," Bronsen said. "First, we declare an embargo . . ."


How's that?"

"We ship nothing at all across the river. Let's say for
a
pe
r
iod of sixty days. And then," Bronsen added, "we
sen
d
everything across. For two weeks, day and night, we
move
our goods to our customers. That, Leech, is where
you
come in. We want to hire you and your men to con
voy
t
h
ose goods."

Leech looked at the merchant, scowling. "For how
much,
brother?"

"For ten cents on every dollar received."

"Ten cents?" the outlaw roared. "What kind of piker
you
t
a
ke Red Leech to be? Ten cents!"

"We plan to sell a million dollars worth," Bronsen re
plied
quietly. "Your ten cents add up to one hundred
dollars."

Th
e bright green eyes sparkled. "Well, brother, tha
t’
s
mo
re like it!" He swung to Lash Wall. "How's that
soun
d. boy?"

"We
’ll
be working for our money, Big Red," the other
on
e drawled. "And we're going to have to import a lot
more
g
u
nslingers than we got at the fort now."

"
H
ow many men have you got here?" Bronsen asked.

"Se
v
en, eight, ten," Leech said. "They come and go."


Te
n
?" Bronsen echoed. "I was under the impression
your
band was much larger than that."

"What for?" Leech said. "Mister, you collect yourself
fane live hundred Mex
ican
soldiers like the governor did a
y
ear back. Give me Lash here, and maybe two others.
T
hen
yo
u
come and try to move us out of my fort. You
try!”

"
But
this
operation's different, Big Red," Lash pointed
out
.

They want us to get their goods across the Rio. We'll
be work
ing two hundred miles from Fort Leech, out in the
open.”

Leech rubbed his beard. "Well, we'll send for boys
then.
Get me about thirty good ones."


A
t
least," Lash said.

“How
long will it take to assemble them?"

"
H
a
r
d
to judge, brother. They're pretty spread out."

"A month?"

"Could be. Yeah, a month."

"And how long to get them to Brownsville?"

"Three, four days."

"Well, that ought to work into our plans perfectly,"
Bronsen said. "Do we have a deal?"

"A deal is what you got," Leech said, suddenly yawning.
"See you in Brownsville."

The delegation left the room, climbed back into their
stage and rode out of Fort Leech.

Big Red was already sprawled out on the oversized
divan for siesta.

"Who all do you want to send for?" Lash asked.
"Make out a list. We'll go over it tonight."

"Sure thing."

"Be certain to put the Perrott brothers down. And Sam Gill."

"They were cuttin' up around Uvalde last I heard.
Want me to start Pecos ridin' right now?"

"Anything you say, Lash. Only let me sleep till dark."

"Who gets to wake you?"

"Conchita, I think. Or Marie. Hell, I can't keep track."

"I'll tell 'em both, Big Red," the loyal Lash said.

"Yeah," Leech said sleepily. "Man don't want to play
favorites."

That was a month ago, and during the next thirty days
the word ranged far and wide that Big Red needed his boys
in Brownsville. Something real special this time.

Four

B
uchanan
rode
into Beeville two hours after he left San
Antone
went directly to the stable.

"I want this horse fed and watered," he said. "Have her
r
e
ady to go in an hour." The liveryman shook his head.

"Got to wait your turn, fella."

"Not tonight," Buchanan said. "I'm on the move."

"On the prod, too, seems like."

“Y
eh."

"After somebody?"

"Don't know yet. Listen, where do the freighters water
t
he
ir mules in this town?"

"There's a public trough outside a ways. But I sell 'em
w
ate
r
, too."

"
R
emember anything of a new red wagon, six mules?
Would have come through about a week ago."

"Sure do. Remember the wagon and the driver."

"Why do you remember him?"

"Never saw anybody so particular about getting mud off
th
e wheels. Proud as a peacock over that wagon."

"He stay for the night?"

"Don't think so. He was pushin' it, just like you. Say,
you
ain't after that fella, are you?"

"Shouldn't I be?"

The man scratched his head. "Well, now you ask me, I
don’t
know. Can't judge a book by the cover, so they say."

""He looked all right to you?"

"Yeah," the man said. "I kind of liked his looks."

B
u
chanan grinned. "Take my horse in her turn," he
said. "Think I'll go have a steak."

'Have 'er ready in an hour," the man said, not to be
outdone.

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