Bloodshed of the Mountain Man Read online

  “Accordin’ to Rexwell, it don’t matter none,” Taylor replied.

  “What do you mean, it don’t matter none?”

  “From what I understand, Hannibal’s got it all figured out. Somehow if we rob four stagecoaches at the same time, no matter whether they’ve got any money or not, it will make it easier for us to hold up the bank in Brimstone. And that bank is just full of money.”

  “Yeah, well, when Rexwell got me ’n my brother to come in with you, he was tellin’ us about how much money we would be makin’, but I ain’t seen none of it yet. That’s why I was wonderin’ about whether or not this coach would be carryin’ anything.”

  “In just two of our jobs we got over six hunnert dollars apiece from one, and three hunnert from the other,” Taylor said. “Believe me, there is a lot of money to be made as long as we all stick together.”

  “Taylor! Coach is comin’!” Moss called.

  “All right, ever’body back off the road. Moss, tell us when to bring the tree down!”

  “All right.”

  Taylor picked up the axe. The tree had already been wedged so that it would take no more than two or three strikes to finish it.

  “Now!” Moss called.

  Two more blows of the axe and the tree began to move. They all pushed on it, and it fell across the road less than twenty yards in front of the approaching coach.

  “Whoa!” the driver called.

  The guard stood up to look around.

  “Shoot ’im,” Taylor said, and three shots rang out.

  The guard grabbed his stomach, then fell over the wheel, landing hard on the ground. From inside the coach, a woman screamed.

  Taylor and the others, their red bands prominently displayed, stepped out into the road.

  “You people inside,” Taylor called. “Come out now.” Amon Scraggs jerked open the door to the coach.

  Taylor looked toward the driver who was sitting on the seat with his hands up. “You, throw down the money box.”

  The driver did as he was ordered, and Taylor shot the lock off. Opening it, he found a stack of bound bills, and showing it to the others, he stuck it in between the buttons on his shirt.

  “Take what they have,” he ordered.

  Moss and the Scraggs twins stepped up to the passengers. Amos and Amon took money from the men, and Amon snatched a silver watch from the vest pocket of one of them.

  “Well now, ain’t you a purty one?” Moss said to the young woman. He reached for the gold locket she was wearing, then jerked it off her neck.

  “No, please, that belonged to my mama,” the young woman said.

  “Is that a fact? Well, it belongs to me now.”

  “All right, you folks can climb back into the coach now,” Taylor said as soon as the collection was made.

  When the passengers were loaded, Taylor called up to the driver.

  “You can go on now.”

  “What about my shotgun guard? Can I take him back with us?”

  “Why bother? He’s dead,” Taylor said.

  “Which means he won’t be no trouble to you.”

  Taylor looked at Moss and the Scraggs twins. “Pick ’im up and drop ’im in the box boot.”

  The three men picked up the guard, then dropped him into the front boot, just beside the driver’s legs.

  “Go ahead!” Taylor called.

  Taylor and the others watched as the driver pulled the coach off the road to maneuver, carefully, around the fallen tree.

  “All right, men, let’s go,” Taylor said, after the coach had gone some distance.

  When Taylor and the men with him returned to Ten Strike, the other three teams were back as well. They had robbed four stagecoaches at the same time and had taken in seventeen hundred dollars, total.

  Fort Union, New Mexico

  “Which one are you?” Hannibal asked the next morning when the first of the two prisoners to be interviewed was brought to him.

  “Keefer’s the name. I don’t see as you need to know my first name.”

  “You’re right, I don’t need to know it. As far as I’m concerned, your first name is Prisoner. How much money did you get from the stagecoach hold up?”

  “Who says we held up a stagecoach?”

  “Keefer, you are facing the gallows. They don’t hang people for uniform infractions. Now, how much money was in the strongbox?”

  Keefer was quiet for a moment. “Two hundred dollars,” he finally said.

  “And there were two of you, so what you are saying is, the army is about to hang you and all you got out of it was one hundred dollars.”

  “Yeah,” Keefer said.

  “That doesn’t seem like such a smart move, does it?”

  “I reckon not.”

  “What if you were associated with a group of men who are well led, and who have averaged at least two hundred dollars per month, for the last two years?”

  Keefer got a confused look on his face.

  “Colonel, I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said.

  “Let me put this as succinctly as I possibly can. Suppose someone arranged for your release from the stockade and from the army. If that someone was in charge of this group of men that I mentioned, would you serve him loyally and without question?”

  “You’re damn right I would,” Keefer said.

  “Keep our conversation confidential.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means do not mention one word of what we have talked about this morning, and especially not to any of the other prisoners. Your future depends on it.”

  “My future? Colonel, the way I look at it, I ain’t got much of a future.”

  “If you do as I say, you may have a most lucrative future.”

  After a similar discussion with Malloy, Hannibal returned to the headquarters building to speak again with Major Garneau.

  “Major, I am going to take Keefer and Malloy off your hands.”

  “I don’t understand, sir, what do you mean you are going to take them off my hands?”

  “I will be transporting them to Fort Seldon. There, they will appear before a board of inquiry—army officers from the War Department who are specially trained to interview these men to find out what motivated them to commit such a heinous crime. By what they learn from the inquiry, we hope to reduce these incidents in the future.”

  “How will you get them there?” Major Garneau asked.

  “Ahh, I will require your assistance for that, Major. I will want you to provide two armed guards to accompany me . . . and five mounts. The guards can bring the three mounts back from Fort Seldon after the prisoners are delivered.”

  “Colonel, I will do as you order, of course. But since I have received no orders from the War Department requiring me to release these men, would you be so kind as to provide me with written orders directing me to do so?”

  Hannibal smiled. “Of course I can do that,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  After leaving Major Garneau, Hannibal asked to speak with Keefer and Malloy again, this time requesting to see both of them together.

  When the two men were brought to him, again in a private meeting, he turned to Malloy.

  “Malloy, what did Keefer and I talk about this morning?”

  Malloy had a confused look on his face. “What did you and Keefer talk about? I don’t know, Colonel, he never told me.”

  “Keefer, I shall ask you the same question. What did Malloy and I talk about?”

  “Colonel, that beats the hell out of me.”

  Hannibal got up and walked to the door. When he opened it, he saw that the armed guard was sitting some distance away, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. Closing the door he returned to the two men.

  “I told both of you the same thing, this morning. Now that I have you together, I will elaborate. If you two men will volunteer to serve me loyally, I will get you away from the hanging that you face and enlist you in an elite military-style organiza
tion where you will make at least two hundred dollars per month. Are you interested in such an opportunity?”

  “Hell yes, we are, Colonel,” Keefer said. “At least I am. But I don’t understand, what army regiment has such a deal?”

  “I said military-style organization,” Hannibal said. “It has nothing to do with the army, but I will require discipline and absolute adherence to my orders. Are you willing to do that?”

  “You’re damn right we are,” Malloy said with a broad smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Hannibal was invited to lunch at the Officers’ Open Mess, which he shared with Major Garneau, Garneau’s executive officer, and the six company commanders.

  “I really see no need to have some board of inquiry question these men. Keefer and Malloy were both in my company, and I can tell you now, they are the very dregs of the earth. To tell you the truth, Colonel, I don’t understand how they managed to get into the army in the first place.”

  “I can,” one of the other captains said. “Ken, you know yourself that our ranks are filled with men who are running away from something, be it as severe as a murder charge somewhere, or as benign as a sweetheart who found someone else. But few of our recruits are serving out of a sense of duty to country. The enlisted ranks are filled with such men.”

  “Unfortunately Captain Greenly, it isn’t just the enlisted ranks,” Major Garneau said. “We have some officers who are just as bad.”

  “Oh, sir, I hardly think so,” Captain Greenly replied. “Most of our officer corps comes from the academy. And West Point values honor above all.”

  “The officer I am thinking of is a West Point graduate. His name is Enid Prescott, and he was selling army rifles to a civilian, who was in turn selling those rifles to Indians. And for his crime Prescott was court-martialed, had his commission withdrawn, then was ceremoniously stripped of all rank and accoutrements, and drummed out of the service.”

  “Did you know this officer?” Captain Greenly asked.

  “No, but I do know Colonel Rector. He wrote to me, telling in great detail of the events surrounding the incident.”

  “I knew the officer,” Hannibal said.

  “You did?”

  “Indeed.”

  “What kind of officer was he?”

  “Captain Prescott was . . . is a brilliant man,” Hannibal said. “He had superb leadership skills, which the army failed to recognize. I do believe that if his skills and ability had been recognized and had he been promoted, as he should have been, none of that would have happened.”

  “Where is Captain Prescott now?” Captain Greenly asked.

  “Wherever he is, he isn’t a captain,” Major Garneau said.

  “Good point, Major. Indeed he is not,” Hannibal replied. “And to answer your question, I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him since Jefferson Barracks.”

  Half an hour later, a small detachment consisting of Hannibal, the prisoners Keefer and Malloy, as well as the two armed guards supplied by Major Garneau, rode through the gate of Fort Union. Hannibal returned the salute of the gate guard.

  When they were about three miles away from the fort, Hannibal, who was riding behind the two guards, pulled his pistol and shot both of the guards in the back.

  “What the hell?” Malloy asked. “Colonel?”

  “I am not a colonel, I’m not even in the army,” Hannibal said with a broad smile. “And now, neither are either of you. You are now part of the best led group of outlaws in the United States. You are Ghost Riders, and no military unit has more esprit de corps.”

  Hannibal laughed. “And no military unit makes nearly as much money.”

  “What do we call you, if it ain’t colonel?” Malloy asked.

  “You will obey me as if I were a colonel. But you can call me Hannibal.”

  “Hannibal? That’s it? We call you Hannibal?”

  “Yes. Will that be a problem for you?”

  “Hell, no. No problem at all.”

  “Sir,” Hannibal said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I told you, this operation will be run as a military unit. And we must have discipline. You will call me sir.”

  “Yes, sir, if this outfit is all that you claim it to be, I’ll call you sir and wave flags while I’m doin’ it,” Keefer said with a laugh.

  Sugarloaf Ranch

  “Miz Sally, where is Julia?” Cal asked, coming into the parlor where Sally was reading a book.

  “She’s taking a bath right now.”

  Cal nodded. “That’s good, it’ll give us an opportunity for you and me to talk. That is, if you don’t mind.”

  Sally closed the book and put it on the table beside her.

  “All right,” she said.

  “I know that Smoke was married once before.”

  “Yes, to Nicole.”

  “He told me once that even though he loves you, he also loves Nicole, even though she’s dead now.”

  “I’m sure that he does.”

  “Does that bother you any? I mean, him still lovin’ Nicole ’n all.”

  “No, of course not. Why should it bother me?”

  “I don’t know. I was just sort of wonderin’ about it, is all.”

  “Cal, are you asking if I am jealous of Nicole? Quite the contrary, I love Nicole, even though I never met her.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you love her if you never met her?”

  “I love Nicole because she’s a part of Smoke’s history. You might even say that she taught him to love, and I am now the beneficiary of that.”

  “That’s good to know,” Cal said.

  “Cal, this isn’t about Nicole, is it?”

  “No, ma’am, it isn’t.”

  “Let me guess. It’s about Katrina Byrd.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I loved her a lot.”

  “I know.”

  “When Keno took Katrina’s life, I thought it was the same as him taking the rest of my life from me. Katrina and I would have married, and we would have had kids and grandkids, and they would have had kids and grandkids. It was the same as him killing a hundred years of what would have been.1

  “Only now, well—” Cal let the incomplete sentence hang.

  “Are you in love with Julia?”

  “Yes ma’am, I kind of think I am.”

  “You think you are?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It’s no surprise that you are feeling something for her. After all, she saved your life, and for the last few weeks, she has, quite literally, been your connection to reality. Are you sure that what you are feeling isn’t just a sense of gratitude?”

  “No, ma’am, I think it’s more than that.”

  “Have you told her how you feel?”

  “I haven’t said anything to her. I guess I wasn’t sure whether I should tell her or not. I mean, I still love Katrina. I would say that you probably think that doesn’t make sense, but since you know that Smoke still loves Nicole, then you would understand. But, I don’t know if Julia could understand that like you do. And, I don’t want to be unfair to her or to Katrina.”

  “Cal, what would be unfair to Julia and equally unfair to your memory of Katrina, would be for you to never allow yourself to fall in love again. If this is going to happen, let it happen. Don’t step into it, but don’t step away from it, either. If it is meant to be, it will be.”

  Cal smiled. “I knew that if I talked to you about it, you’d be able to tell me what to do. For something like this, I’d rather talk to you than to Smoke or Pearlie. This is the kind of thing a man would need to talk to his ma about. And, right now, you’re sort of my ma. I mean, if you don’t mind me thinking of you like that.”

  “Of course I don’t mind, Cal. I’m very flattered that you think of me in such a fashion.”

  Julia came into the parlor then. “Good, Cal, I’m glad you’re in here and not running around outside somewhere, getting in trouble.”

  “Now, just what kind of
trouble do you think I would be getting into?” Cal asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe trying to ride or wrestling with a steer or something. Didn’t you tell me that you and Pearlie did that for a rodeo once?”

  “Oh,” Cal said, putting his hand over his stomach. “Don’t say anything like that, Julia. That’s giving me a bellyache, just thinking about it.

  “You put somethin’ on to make you smell good, didn’t you?” Cal asked, sniffing audibly.

  “It’s Essence of Lilac,” Julia said. She held the inside of her wrist up to Cal’s nose. “Do you like it?”

  “I like it a lot,” Cal said with a wide smile.

  “Cal, why don’t you have one of the boys hitch up the buggy, and you take Julia out to dinner tonight?” Sally said.

  “Great idea! I’ll take her to Lamberts.”

  “No, with all the biscuits and the extras they bring around there, you would eat too much. I would say take her to Delmonico’s. It has a much nicer ambience.”

  “A nicer what?” Cal asked.

  “Let’s just say that if you are going to take a young lady out for a nice evening, Delmonico’s would be the best place to go.”

  “Yes, ma’am, now that I think about it,” Cal said, “I believe it would be at that.”

  “Julia, can I trust you to make certain that Cal doesn’t overdo it?”

  “I’ll watch him like a hawk,” Julia promised.

  “Cal!” Tim Murchison said when Cal and Julia stepped into Delmonico’s. Tim was sitting at a table with his wife and two children, but upon seeing Cal come through the front door, he hurried over to greet him.

  “It’s good to see you up and around,” Tim said. “Half the town thinks you’re at death’s door.”

  “I would be, if it weren’t for Julia,” Cal said. “Julia, this is my friend, Tim Murchison. That special tooled saddle I’ve got? He made it. Oh, wait, I guess you haven’t seen it yet.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Murchison,” Julia said, extending her hand.

  “You must be that nurse that Doc Urban and Smoke have been carryin’ on about,” Tim said.

  “I didn’t know anyone was carrying on about me,” Julia said, her smile causing the dimple to appear. “But I have been looking after Cal.”