Ole Devil and the Caplocks (9 page)

“That looks like one of
our boys’ horses, Cousin Devil,” Mannen remarked, indicating the
animal alongside the dun as he, Di and Rassendyll came to meet the
Texian.

“
It was
Ilkey’s,” Ole Devil replied and swung from the
saddle.

“Was Ilkey’s?” Mannen
prompted.

“He’s dead,” Ole Devil
said and explained what had happened.

“
Hopis,
huh?” Di growled at the end of the narrative. “I’ve never had any
doings with ’em, but from what I’ve heard tell, they’re tolerable
tough hombres. Anyway, even if they come, we ought to be long gone
by the time they get here.”

“We’d better be,” Ole
Devil warned. “They’ll have us outnumbered.”

“
Only
we’ll have ’em outgunned,” Di pointed out. “Say one thing, though.
It’s right lucky for us all that we let ole Tommy go after you,
Devil.”

“Couldn’t rightly figure
any way to stop him once he got to figuring on doing it,” Mannen
supplemented indolently. “You know how he is. He’s mighty set in
his ways.”

“
Could
be he had help to decide on following me,” Ole Devil drawled,
eyeing the girl and his cousin sardonically. Then he jerked his
left thumb in the direction of the brig and went on, “Captain Adams
isn’t wasting any time in getting under way.”

“
We
can’t blame him for that, “ Rassendyll pointed out, studying the
Texian without learning anything from the Mephistophelian features
and wondering why the news he had brought had not produced the
response he had anticipated. It almost seemed that Ole Devil was
more distressed and perturbed than delighted in learning that his
name was cleared and that he was free to go back to Louisiana.
However, there were matters of more pressing importance to be taken
care of. “I’ve let him take the rifle boxes for
firewood.”

“We’d only have had to bum
them ourselves if you hadn’t,” Ole Devil answered.

“Riders coming, Cap’n
Hardin!” called the nearest of the watchers posted on the top of
the slope. “It looks like the rest of our boys headed
back.”

“What the—?” Di exclaimed,
for the report implied that the riders were returning
alone.

“Come on!” Ole Devil
interrupted, having drawn a similar conclusion, mounting the
dun.

Darting forward, Di just
beat Mannen Blaze to the dead picket’s mount. Like the burly
Texian, she had removed her horse’s saddle. By appropriating
Ilkey’s animal, she was able to accompany Ole Devil. They ascended
the slope swiftly and, on reaching the top, she found that her
assumption had been correct. Although the approaching riders were
the remainder of Company “C,” there was no sign of her grandfather
and the mule train.

“Howdy, Di, Cap’n Hardin,”
greeted the lanky sergeant, after looking around, as the two riders
converged with his party. “Seems like them two fellers was
wrong.”

“Which two fellers?” Di
inquired.

“
They
met up with us on the trail,” the sergeant elaborated. “Allowed
they seed a fair-sized bunch of hombres led by a right
fine-looking, but somewhat mussed-up woman headed this
way.”

“That sounds like that
blasted de Moreau bitch and her renegades. Devil,” Di spat
out.

“
Which’s
what your grandpappy figured,” the sergeant admitted. “So he told
us to head back here and find out if you needed a hand. Reckoned us
coming up from behind, we’d get ’em boxed in and whup ’em
good.”

“It’s a pity they never
came,” Di declared. “We could have settled—”

“Turn your men, Sergeant!”
Ole Devil barked.

“What’s up?” Di asked,
startled by the vehemence with which the order had been
given.

“They haven’t come here,”
Ole Devil replied. “So it must have been a trick to draw off the
escort and let them attack the mule train. If they can stop it,
they’ll have us pinned down here until they can raise enough help
to come and take the consignment from us.”

Although Ole Devil Hardin
was extremely perturbed by the thought that Ewart Brindley might
have been tricked, he also realized that he could not set off
immediately to satisfy himself upon the matter. First, taking into
consideration the other development which had arisen to threaten
the safety of the consignment, he had to organize additional
protection for it. There was a chance that the
mozo
had been lying, or was
mistaken, and the Arizona Hopi
Activos
Regiment could be much
closer than he had claimed. So the circle of pickets had to be
reinforced, thereby lessening the possibility of another lone man
suffering the same fate as Ilkey; or, worse still, falling alive
into the enemies’ hands and being made to answer their questions.
Unfortunately, the only way in which the pickets could be
strengthened was by reducing the already small force who were at
Santa Cristobal Bay.

Under different
circumstances, the arrival of Sergeant Maxime and his detail would
have been a blessing. However, with the possible danger to the mule
train, Ole Devil did not dare take the chance of adding the
newcomers to his defenders. Instead, he told them to return as
quickly as possible while he rejoined the rest of Company “C” and,
after he had made his arrangements, he would follow.

Appreciating the
difficulty the young Texian was having in deciding upon the best
line of action, Diamond-Hitch Brindley did not attempt to influence
him. Despite being aware of how tough her grandfather and his men
were, she shared Ole Devil’s concern for the safety of the
consignment. However, she also knew that mentioning the matter
would do nothing to lessen the burden of his
responsibility.

“
Shucks,
Devil,” the girl remarked, turning her borrowed mount at the
Texian’s side as Sergeant Maxime led the detail in the direction
from which they had come. “Grandpappy Ewart’s been taking good care
of his-self for a heap of years. And I reckon him ’n’ our
Tejas
packers can
look out for themselves until your boys get back. Anyway, de Moreau
don’t have all that many men with her.”

“That’s the thing I’m
counting on most,” Ole Devil replied. “But, if she sent those men
to tell your grandfather about seeing her and her men coming this
way, she must have had a reason for doing it. I wish I could think
what it was.”

Throughout the short ride
back to his waiting companions, the Texian tried to console himself
with the thought that Di’s final comment had been valid. The
arrival of Mannen Blaze and Company “C” the previous day had
scattered the renegades who were with Madeline de Moreau. Nor, even
if she had managed to gather them again, were there so many as to
have a great numerical supremacy over Brindley and his
Tejas
Indian
employees.

In spite of the latter
point, Ole Devil could not dispel his perturbation. He felt sure
that the two men who had met the mule train were acting under
Madeline de Moreau’s orders. In which case, she must have had a
good reason for sending them. Nothing he had seen of her led him to
assume she was foolish. In fact, he had found her to be intelligent
and unscrupulous. So, if he was correct in his assumptions, she was
planning mischief of some kind. He wished that he could guess what
it might be.

Swinging from the dun’s
saddle near to the other horses, Ole Devil put aside his
speculations so as to give his instructions to his cousin and
Beauregard Rassendyll. Each picket was to be given a companion and
warned about the Hopis, with orders to report to the bay
immediately if any of them were seen. Fifty of the new Caplocks
were to be cleaned—all were coated in grease—ready for use and
would be loaded as soon as word was received that the Indians were
coming.

“I’ll see to it,” Mannen
promised, after his cousin had explained the reason why he was
being left in command. “And I’ve got something that will help.
Uncle Ben Blaze sent me a Browning and three slides.”

“That could come in handy
all right,” Ole Devil admitted. “But I hope that you don’t need
it.”

“
Tell
you though,” Di went on. “You might not be able to stop them Hopis
a-coming, but with the Caplocks and your lil ole Browning, you
ought to be able to make ’em limp a mite going
back.”

“Like Cousin Devil says,”
Mannen drawled, his tones suggesting that he was having difficulty
in staying awake, “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

While the conversation had
been taking place, Ole Devil was transferring his saddle and bridle
to the big, powerful black gelding which was his second mount.
Being fresh, it would travel at a better speed than the dun. As Di
was equally aware of the need to move fast, she had been making her
sorrel gelding ready instead of relying upon the mount belonging to
the dead picket.

Satisfied that he had done
all he could to safeguard the consignment and confident he could
rely upon Mannen to do everything necessary, Ole Devil set off with
the girl. They made good time, but the sun was going down before
they arrived at their destination.

Topping a ridge which gave
them their first view of the mule train, Di and the Texian could
sense that their fears had been justified. The animals, still
saddled and under the watchful gaze of the
Tejas
Indian packers, were standing
in a bunch just beyond some bushes on the bank of a small stream.
Forming a rough circle around them were a number of the Texian
soldiers, positioned as if waiting to repel an attack. However,
only half of Maxime’s detail were present. Nor was there any sign
of Brindley and his
cargador.
^xxxiv
A further suggestion that something had happened was given by
a gray horse which lay unmoving on its side a short way from the
other animals. The sight of it brought a furious exclamation from
the girl.

“Hell’s teeth!” Di
bellowed, reining in the sorrel. “Something’s happened to ole
Whitey!”

The words were directed at
Ole Devil’s back. Disturbed by what he was seeing, he signaled with
his hands and heels for the black gelding to increase its pace.
Nor, despite the shock she had received and appreciating what the
loss of the white horse could mean, did the girl delay. Even as she
stopped speaking, she urged her mount forward at a better speed and
followed her grim-faced companion. Galloping across the intervening
distance, they were almost neck and neck as they passed between two
members of his company.

“Go in there, Cap’n
Hardin!” called one of the soldiers, pointing toward the
bushes.

Acting upon the somewhat
inadequate advice, with the girl still at his side, Ole Devil went
in the direction indicated by the man. Before they had gone many
feet, he began to get an inkling of what the soldier had meant. At
least two other members of his company were partially concealed by
the foliage and it was impossible to tell what they were doing.
Recognizing one as possessing a reasonable knowledge of medical and
surgical matters, he felt an ever growing sense of
alarm.

Sliding the black to a
halt on the edge of the bushes, Ole Devil was quitting the saddle
and allowing the reins to fall free even before it was fully at a
stop. Responding with an equal alacrity, Di dismounted and
accompanied him as he advanced on foot.

“Grandpappy!” the girl
shrieked, as she and the Texian passed between some of the bushes
to enter a small patch of open ground. “Joe!”

Ewart Brindley was lying
on his back. About the same height as his granddaughter, he made up
in breadth what he lacked in height. Stripped to the waist, his
buckskin shirt having been cut off so that “Doc” Kimberley could
get at the wound in the right side of his chest, he was well
muscled and looked as hard and fit as a much younger man. Almost
bald, with what little hair that remained a grizzled white, his
leathery and sun-reddened features showed that, although he was
trying to hide it, he was in considerable pain. He had on buckskin
trousers, encircled by a belt with a big knife in an Indian sheath,
and moccasins which extended to just below the knee.

Not far away, propped in a
sitting position against the bent leg of a kneeling soldier,
Brindley’s
cargador
was having what appeared to be a wound on his forehead
bandaged. About twenty years of age, Joe Galton was tall, red
haired, good looking in a freckled and, usually, cheerful way. He
too wore buckskins and carried a knife on his belt.

To give her full credit,
regardless of the discovery she had just made, Di did not go into a
display of hysteria. Raised by her grandfather in a predominantly
male society since her parents had been killed during her early
childhood, she had seen much of life—and death. So she was able to
restrain her external emotions after the initial reaction. Going
forward, her body trembling slightly with the strain of acting in
an impassive manner, she watched the tall, lean, unshaven, yet
clean looking soldier who was attending to Brindley. Deciding that
he was competent to handle the task, she halted and looked down.
However, when she tried to speak, the question she wanted to ask
would not come.