Ole Devil and the Caplocks (16 page)

Despite the urgency of
dealing with his assailant, Ole Devil Hardin had not forgotten that
Dodd was somewhere outside the San Phillipe Hotel. Even as the man
he had shot was going down, he had seen the renegade standing on
the sidewalk. However, before he could take any more positive
action than completing his turn instead of remaining swiveled at
the hips, Charlie Slow-Down’s blunderbuss had removed any need for
him to do so.

Satisfied that Dodd no
longer posed a problem, the Texian swung his gaze around the
barroom. The majority of the customers were on their feet and,
although as yet none of them were making out-and-out threatening
gestures, most were reaching for weapons. So he could not be sure
of what their sentiments might be over the interruption to their
pleasure.

Alert for the possibility
that there were other renegades, or people in sympathy with them,
present, Ole Devil kept his Browning Slide Repeating rifle in a
position of readiness. He did not worry about the surviving member
of the quartet who had tried to attack his party, being confident
that Tommy Okasi could keep the man under control. Knowing the kind
of customer Cole Turtle’s establishment attracted, he wished they
had not discovered that Diamond-Hitch Brindley was a
girl.

For her part, although
just as appreciative of the situation, Di was much less perturbed
than the Texian. In fact, she believed that the loss of her hat and
exposure of her features had reduced rather than added to the
danger. Provided, of course, that Turtle recognized her.

“Why howdy there, Di,” the
hotelkeeper boomed, his voice that of a well-educated Southron,
rising with considerable alacrity despite his bulk. “It’s good to
see you again. Is your grandfather with you?”

Carrying around the room.
Turtle’s words were as much an announcement as a greeting, Ole
Devil decided as he watched the effect they were having. They were
stating that he not only knew the girl, but was showing his support
for her and her companions. Taking notice, the customers realized
that it would be unwise—to say the least—to become involved. Not
that any of them had cause to do so. As far as they were concerned,
the affair had been between two parties of strangers and was none
of their concern.

“
Sorry
about causing the fuss. Cole, although it wasn’t our fault’s it
happened,” the girl replied, returning the rifle to the crook of
her left elbow after setting its hammer at half cock. As Ole Devil
duplicated the actions and Tommy wiped the blade of his
tachi
on his
victim’s shirt, she went on, “You saw the way it was, they didn’t
leave us any other choice.”

“They didn’t,” Turtle
conceded, sitting down again. “Are there likely to be any more of
them looking for you?”

“Couldn’t rightly say
offhand,” Di admitted and made a contemptuous gesture with her
right thumb at the seated and frightened-looking renegade. “Maybe
this yahoo’d like to tell us. What do you reckon,
Devil?”

“
I
reckon he might feel obliging,” the Texian replied, wishing that
the girl had been more careful in the selection of her words.
However, although the crowd were listening, nobody appeared to have
noticed the clue to his identity which she had given. Scowling at
the man, his voice hardened as he continued, “On your feet and shed
your weapons, hombre. Pronto!”

Aided by a threatening
gesture from Tommy’s
tachi
, which looked no less deadly
despite having had the blood cleaned from its blade, the order was
obeyed with promptitude. Hurriedly scrambling up, the man discarded
his pistol and knife in a manner which left no doubt that he did
not intend to use either as a means of resisting his captors.
Returning the sword almost as swiftly as it had been drawn, the
little Oriental gathered up the weapons.

“
Yes
sir.” Di grinned, noticing how the renegade was staring with
awestricken fascination at the smaller of her male companions.
Clearly the man had been impressed by the demonstration
of
laijitsu
in reverse and realized that, swiftly as the
tachi
had been returned
to its sheath, it could be produced with an equal or possibly even
greater speed. “He just might at that.”

“Bring him over so that he
can answer Mister Turtle’s question, Tommy,” Ole Devil
commanded.

Having delivered his
instructions, the Texian turned around. His whole bearing was
redolent of confidence that he would be obeyed. Not only did the
girl share his conviction that the little Oriental could handle
their prisoner, but she knew why Ole Devil was acting in such a
manner. He meant to impress the onlookers and warn them that he was
a man with whom it would be dangerous to meddle. So she accompanied
him as he strode across the room.

Approaching their host’s
table, Di gave the other men at it more of her attention than she
was devoting to Turtle. All had an air of prosperity, but that was
only to be expected. A player needed to have plenty of money, or
negotiable property, to sit in on a game with the kind of stakes
for which they had been playing. Three were prominent members of
the community, with only slightly lower social standing than the
hotelkeeper, whom she knew slightly and did not care for. Nor did
the other two, one in the attire of a civilian ship’s officer and
the other dressed in the fashion of a Mississippi riverboat
gambler, strike her as being any more likable. She noticed that the
latter was studying Ole Devil with considerable
interest.

“Go after Devil-San!”
ordered the little Oriental, picking up the pistol and knife
without taking his eyes off the renegade.

Gulping nervously, despite
having an even greater size and weight advantage than he had had
over the girl, the man showed no inclination to refuse. Instead, he
turned to scuttle after Di and Ole Devil. Tucking the pistol into
his belt. Tommy followed at a more leisurely pace.

“
All
right, hombre,” the Texian said, his face taking on its most
Satanic expression as the man came up. “You heard Mister Turtle.
How many more of your outfit are there and how close might they
be?”

“I—” the prisoner began,
torn between fear of his captors and the knowledge of the way a
betrayal would be regarded by his fellow renegades no matter how it
had been extracted from him. “Augh!”

The last exclamation had
been involuntary and was one of agony. It was caused by Tommy
driving his right hand, with the fingers extended and the thumb
bent across the palm, in a
hira-nukite
—four finger
piercing—thrust against the man’s kidney region. It was a most
painful form of treatment, as its recipient might have testified if
he had not had more urgent matters on his mind.

“You’ll find it’s a whole
heap easier on yourself if you answer,” Ole Devil remarked. “That
was only for starters.”

“There’s a dozen more of
us,” the renegade croaked, having reached a similar conclusion.
“The—They’re about three miles out, on the trail south.”

“Are they likely to come
here?” Ole Devil asked.

“N—No!” the man yelped.
“Honest to Gawd! Mrs. de Moreau allowed that you’d be sure to come
that way and didn’t even want us four to come in. How the hell did
they miss—”

‘We’re asking the
questions,” Ole Devil pointed out.

“N—No offense!” the
prisoner squawked, drawing in his spine as he anticipated the
arrival of another painful blow from what had felt like a blunt
steel spike.

“What’re you laying for
these folks over?” asked the gambler, who had been sharing his
attention between the girl and the Texian.

“
With
respect, sir,” Ole Devil put in before the renegade could answer,
having no wish for the other occupants of the barroom to learn
about the consignment of Caplock rifles. “But that’s between them
and us.”

“Is that so?” The gambler
growled, for the way in which the statement had been made was less
polite than the words themselves.

“
That’s
how
I
see
it!” Ole Devil declared, his voice and attitude showing he
considered the matter to be closed.

“Well I don’—” the gambler
began.

“I’m not acquainted with
either of these gentlemen, Mister Trellis,” Cole Turtle
interrupted, laying his big right hand on the butt of the pistol in
what some people might have regarded as a casual, or even
accidental, manner. “But Di Brindley and her grandfather are my
friends.”

“
It
seems I’ve the advantage over you in one respect,” Wade Trellis
replied, without making any great effort to hide his resentment
over the hotelkeeper’s intervention. He indicated the young Texian.
“He’s Ole Devil Hardin—”

“I’d an idea that he might
be,” Turtle admitted with a sardonic smile. “You’re traveling in
distinguished and influential company, Di.”

“There’s some’s’d say
better your’n, Cole,” the girl answered, darting a hostile glare at
the gambler.

“
And
what the nut-man
^xl
here’s going to say next, sir,” Ole Devil went on, “is that
there used to be a price on my head in Louisiana.”

“Used to be?” Trellis
repeated, his cheeks reddening although he tried to keep from
showing his resentment at having been classified as a
“nut-man.”

“Used to be,” Ole Devil
confirmed. “I’ve been told that my name’s been cleared and the
charge which brought me here no longer applies.”

“So that’s what you’ve
heard, huh?” Trellis sneered.

“Di’s here as your guest
and under your protection, sir,” Ole Devil said, ignoring the
gambler and addressing the hotelkeeper in tones intended to carry
around the room. He was aided by the silence which had descended
upon the employees and customers alike. “But I can protect
myself.”

“That’s understood.
Captain Hardin,” Turtle replied, speaking just as loudly and, as
was obvious to everybody present, once again giving what amounted
to his seal of approval for the Texian.

“
Take
this. Tommy,” Ole Devil ordered, handing his rifle to the little
Oriental. Then he swung his cold, Satanic gaze to Trellis. “The
news was brought by a friend, whose word I trust, so
I
believe it,
nut-man. If you ‘d care to dispute the story, pick up Mister
Turtle’s pistol and start to do it.”

Looking from the
grim-faced young Texian to the gambler and back, a broad grin
twisted the hotelkeeper’s lips. After a glance at Di, who neither
moved nor spoke, he set the hammer of the pistol at half cock and
pushed across the table until it was just within the gambler’s
reach. Then, taking his hand away, he sat back with an air of eager
anticipation. His whole attitude showed that he expected, hoped
even, that the challenge would be accepted. Knowing Trellis, he did
not doubt it would.

Nor was Turtle
particularly surprised that Ole Devil should be adopting such a
high handed attitude. It was typical of an arrogant, hot tempered
young Southron blood that he would be quick to respond to any
suggestion which might affect his honor. Or even merely because he
had, for some reason, taken a dislike to another person.

For all the apparently
impassive way in which Di was looking on, she felt deeply perturbed
by the latest turn of events. However, she held different views
from those of her host regarding Ole Devil’s behavior. Knowing him
very well, in spite of their brief acquaintance, she felt sure that
he was not acting out of a kind of glory in the
code duello
which caused many young
men of his class to issue a challenge to fight under the most
flimsy of excuses.

In her summation, the girl
was doing less injustice than Turtle to the Texian’s
motives.

Originally Ole Devil had
hoped to arrive in San Phillipe, carry out his business with the
hotelkeeper and depart without attracting attention. Due to the
intervention of the renegades, there was no longer any hope of
doing so. The revelation of Di’s identity would, as Trellis’s words
had proved, be sure to arouse speculation among the customers. Even
if they could be prevented from discovering the reason for the
visit, knowing who the girl was and the nature of the business with
which her family was connected, they would be eager to learn if
something of value was being transported in their
vicinity.

While Turtle wielded
considerable authority in the town, he was not its absolute and
unchallenged ruler. Any of the three citizens in the game possessed
the means to go against his desires provided they considered there
was sufficient inducement. With that in mind, Ole Devil had decided
to give them an object lesson. His every instinct warned him that
the gambler was posing the most immediate threat. With his
curiosity aroused. Trellis would be willing to satisfy it even at
the risk of offending the hotelkeeper. Having drawn his conclusion,
the young Texian did not hesitate to act upon it.

“
There’s
one thing you’d better know, nut-man,”‘ Ole Devil drawled, making
no attempt to arm himself. “Down here in Texas, we don’t waste time
by following the Clonmel Code.
^xli
So you can either admit that you accept my word, or pick up
that pistol and try to use it.”