Ole Devil and the Caplocks (8 page)

“Work the lever!” Ole
Devil instructed, glancing around and guessing what had gone
wrong.

Although Villena had
deduced enough to fit the magazine through the aperture, he had not
completed the simple loading process. Thumbing down the lever on
the right side of the frame set the mechanism into operation. Not
only was the chamber aligned, it was cammed forward and held so
that the face of the magazine formed a gas-tight connection against
the bore of the barrel. In his ignorance, the Mexican had saved his
life. Carrying out his employer’s advice. Tommy manipulated the
lever and felt the magazine move into position. However, by the
time he had done so and pulled down the hammer again, Villena was
approaching the edge of the clearing. For all that, before he could
enter the woodland, the little Oriental had the rifle’s barrel
pointing at the center of his back. Satisfied that he was holding
true, Tommy started to squeeze the trigger.

Having been knocked on to
his rump by the force of his employer’s shove, the
mozo
let out a wail of
alarm as he realized that he was being deserted. The sound
distracted Tommy at the worst possible moment, with the hammer just
liberated from the sear. There was the crack of detonating black
powder, but the muzzle had wavered out of alignment. He missed, but
not by much.

In passing, the bullet
snipped through one of the quetzals plumes which dangled from the
top of Villena’s Busby. Before Tommy could go through the
Browning’s reloading process, brief as it might be in comparison
with contemporary single-shot arms, the Mexican was urging the
palomino to greater speed and was partially concealed among the
trees.

“Get after him!” Ole Devil
barked, appreciating how difficult trying to shoot the swiftly
moving Villena would be under the circumstances.

“
Best I
set you free first,” Tommy replied, lowering the rifle. “I don’t
think he will be turning back, but if he comes, he won’t be
alone.”

Accepting the wisdom of
the little Oriental’s comment, Ole Devil did not argue. In fact, he
was considerably relieved by the prospect of being released from
his bonds. He realized that it was his earlier preoccupation with
his private affairs which had resulted in him being taken prisoner,
at a time when he should have been devoting his entire attention to
the needs of the Republic of Texas. The thought was far from
pleasing. It was, he told himself grimly, the first time he had
made such an error for that reason and he promised himself it would
be the last.

Setting down the Browning
rifle, after a glance to make sure that the wailing and still
seated
mozo
was
not planning to take any hostile action. Tommy drew his
wakizashi
. Bending, he
used its eighteen-inch-long, razor-sharp blade to sever the rawhide
thongs holding Ole Devil’s ankles. Then, stepping behind his
employer, he liberated the wrists.

“
Gracias
,” Ole Devil gritted, trying
to conceal the pain which the renewal of his impeded circulation
was causing. “How the hell did you come to be here so conveniently
when I needed you?”

“Old Nipponese saying—”
Tommy began.

“Which you’ve just made
up,” Ole Devil put in through clenched lips, making what had become
an accepted response to such a statement by the little
Oriental.

“
Man
with great personal problem on his mind less capable of taking care
of himself,” Tommy went on, as if the interruption had never taken
place, returning the
wakizashi
to its sheath. There was,
although he would not have admitted it, complete justification for
his employer’s comment and he continued, “So Di and Mannen-san sent
humble and unworthy self to watch over you.”

“
Why
that was right neighborly and considerate of you, I’m sure,” Ole
Devil declared and thrust himself to his feet. “And thank you ’most
to death. Come on, I want to find out what happened to
Ilkey.”

“
I
already have,” Tommy replied, as the Texian went toward his
weapons. “That’s why I didn’t get here sooner. I didn’t want you to
know I was following, so I wasn’t too close and I lost sight of
you. So I went straight to where we’d left Ilkey. When I found his
body and you weren’t there, I came looking for you. I heard you
talking and moved in on foot.” While the little Oriental was
speaking, Ole Devil picked up one of the Manton pistols. After
checking that it had not been tampered with and was still capable
of being fired, he thrust its barrel through the loop on his belt.
Then he retrieved the bowie knife and slid its eleven inches long,
two and a quarter inches wide, three-eighths of an inch thick clip
point blade
^xxxiii
into the sheath. Collecting the rifle’s two spare magazines,
he returned them to the pouch on the back of his belt. By the time
he had done so. Tommy was holding the second pistol and the
saber.

“Are there any more of
them around?” Tommy inquired, nodding toward the dead
Indians.

“
I’d say
‘yes’ to that,” Ole Devil replied and picked up his rifle. “Let’s
find out how many and how near they are.”

Although the
mozo
was no longer
wailing, he had not attempted to rise. Instead, he had remained
crouching on the ground, hoping to avoid drawing attention to
himself. He stared in horror as the two men began to walk in his
direction. Nor could he decide which was the more frightening. The
smaller had killed Many Plantings and the other Hopi braves, three
of them with his sword, taking one’s head off with a single blow.
However, despite having seen the taller as a bound and helpless
prisoner, his appearance aroused a sense of superstitious dread in
the youngster. His hair and face made him look like the pictures of
el Diablo, the Devil, which the
mozo
had been shown many times by
the fathers at his local mission.

“
Have
mercy,
señores
!” the youngster screeched in Spanish, crossing himself with
great vigor. “It wasn’t me who attacked you. I had to come with my
patron to—”

“Don’t be frightened,” Ole
Devil put in gently, employing the same language. “We won’t harm
you if you answer our questions truthfully.”

“
Wh—What
do you want to know,
señor
?” the
mozo
whimpered, gazing up as the two
young men halted before him.

“
Where
are the rest of your regiment?” Ole Devil asked.

“
F—Far
off,
señor
,” the youngster replied, waving his right hand vaguely to
the southwest. “D—Don Abrahan left the camp early yesterday morning
and we’ve been traveling ever since.”

“How many more men did he
have with him?”

“
N—None,
señor
.”

“
None?”
Ole Devil challenged.

“
None,
señor
,” the
mozo
confirmed. “I was told that the
rest of the regiment were staying where they are until we returned
and then it would be decided which way we will march. I hope that
it is back home.”

“I think he’s speaking the
truth,” Ole Devil stated, having reverted to English so that he
could translate the conversation for his companion’s benefit. “In
which case, we’ve some time in hand to get the consignment on the
move.”

“Do the Mexicans know
about it?” Tommy inquired. “Not from the way that Villena spoke
when he was questioning me.”

“Then he might not come
back.”

“I don’t intend to count
on it,” Ole Devil declared. “He was no fool and finding members of
the Texas Light Cavalry this far east aroused his curiosity. So he
could persuade his colonel that investigating things might be
worthwhile.”

“How many men do they
have?” Tommy wanted to know.

“
He
can’t say for sure,” Ole Devil replied, after putting further
questions to the
mozo
. “Over a hundred, but only a
few of them have firearms.”

“Even with that few, they
still have us outnumbered,” Tommy pointed out. “And they can travel
faster than we’ll be doing with the mule train.”

“That’s for sure,” Ole
Devil agreed. “So the more miles we can put between us and them,
the better I’ll like it. I’ll go back to the bay and tell Di what’s
happened. Keep watch here until I send a couple of men to relieve
you.”

“
What
about him?” Tommy asked, indicating the
mozo
.

“We’d better keep him with
us for the time being,” Ole Devil decided. “Let him bury Ilkey and
fetch him in with you when you’re relieved.”

“I’ll see to it,” Tommy
promised. “Are you all right?”

“It’s mainly my pride
that’s hurt,” Ole Devil admitted wryly. “Shall I leave you my
rifle?”

“I’d rather rely on my
bow,” Tommy replied and his next words were more of a statement
than a question. “We won’t be going back to Crown
Bayou?”

“No,” Ole Devil answered
quietly, removing the magazine from his rifle and returning it to
the vacant space in the pouch. “We won’t be going back. Provided we
can hold on to it, Texas’s our home from now on.”

“I’ll go and fetch my
horse before you leave,” Tommy suggested, guessing what reaching
such a decision must have cost his employer and refraining from
further discussion.

“That’d be advisable,” Ole
Devil agreed, knowing that the little Oriental might have need of
the animal.

While waiting for his
companion to return with his horse, Ole Devil made preparations for
his own departure. Going to the horses, he discovered—as he had
suspected—that the one he had not been able to see clearly earlier
belonged to the dead picket. He examined his line backed dun
gelding to ensure that it had not been injured when he was dragged
from its back. Satisfied that it had not, he slid the rifle into
the saddle boot. Then he replaced the second pistol and saber in
the holster and scabbard which were suspended on either side of the
rig’s low horn. All the time he was working, he kept the
mozo
under observation
and was watched fearfully in return.

Telling the youngster to
fetch his hat, which lay under the tree where it had fallen, Ole
Devil donned it. Retrieving the pistol dropped by the chief of the
Hopis, he took it to the picket’s horse and tucked it into the
bedroll on the cantle of the saddle. When an opportunity presented
itself, he intended to send the animal and property to Ilkey’s
widow.

“
I’ll
take Ilkey’s horse with me and ride relay,” Ole Devil announced,
when Tommy joined him leading a powerful roan gelding and carrying
the long bow and quiver of arrows. “You and the
mozo
there can
bring the Hopis’ mounts when you come. And don’t take any chances.
If the Mexican shows up with reinforcements, get away
fast.”

“I will,” Tommy promised.
“And you be watchful.”

“Count on it,” Ole Devil
replied. “I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Old Nipponese saying,
which I’ve just made up,” Tommy said. “Wise man does not make the
same mistake once.”‘

“
I’ll
keep it in mind for the future,” Ole Devil promised and, telling
the
mozo
what was expected of him, swung astride the dun. Taking the
reins of Ilkey’s mount, which the little Oriental handed to him, he
went on, “I’ll see you back at the bay, Tommy.”

Holding his mount at a
steady trot, with the other horse following obediently as it had
been trained to do, the Texian guided them into the woodland. He
had decided against alerting the rest of his pickets by returning
over the route he had taken on the outward journey. If the
mozo
had told the
truth—and Ole Devil felt sure that he had been too frightened to
lie—there was no immediate danger from the Arizona Hopi
Activos
Regiment. So he
considered that he would be more usefully employed in rejoining his
companions at Santa Cristobal Bay with the minimum of
delay.

Although Ole Devil was
still disturbed by the news he had received via Beauregard
Rassendyll and his decision regarding the future, he remembered the
result of having become engrossed in his thoughts and he pushed the
matter resolutely to the back of his mind. So he was far more alert
than he had been on his way out from the bay. He saw nothing to
disturb him, but did not regret his vigilance.

On his arrival, Ole Devil
found that a considerable amount of work had already been
completed. Not that he had expected anything else. For all Mannen
Blaze’s appearance of being half asleep, he was a reliable
subordinate and could be counted upon to keep the men at any work
to which they were assigned.

All of the consignment was
on the beach and, from what Ole Devil could see, the vessel which
had delivered it was already being made ready to leave. Looking
around, he noticed that the oblong boxes were missing. The rifles
were split into bundles of twelve and were being wrapped in pieces
of sailcloth under Diamond-Hitch Brindley’s supervision.
Fortunately, the paper cartridges and percussion caps were in
containers of a suitable size to be carried on the mules and did
not require repacking.