Ralph Compton Death Rides a Chestnut Mare (24 page)

“Burris and me was in that saloon right through supper,” said Herb, “and I'm starved. Let's get somethin' to eat and talk about this some more.”

“I've had supper,” Danielle said, “but I can always use some more coffee.”

They stopped at one of the cafes near the railroad. While Sellers and Burris waited for their food, the three of them sipped hot coffee.

“A damn shame the military wouldn't work with you,” Burris said. “If Gaddis and Byler have somebody connected with the railroad feeding them information, they'll know when a train's carrying a payroll. But suppose we managed to get the names of every man with the Kansas-Pacific, and none of them are the men you're hunting? We still wouldn't have a clue as to who the Judas is, and you'd be no closer to finding the bunch you're looking for.”

“True,” Danielle said, “but at least I'd know that they're likely not in Kansas. Since I learned nothing in Waco, I'm really not sure where to go from here. I'm thinking of going directly to the Kansas-Pacific and asking them if any of the men on my list are involved with the railroad.”

“Maybe we'll go with you,” said Burris.

“No,” Danielle said. “Some folks frown on bounty hunting, and that might interfere with my learning anything. If I learn something you can use, I'll pass it on.”

“Then why don't we ride to Kansas City in the morning?” Herb suggested. “I doubt we'll learn anything more here.”

 

 

The trio reached Kansas City in the late afternoon. There was the shriek of a whistle and the clanging of a bell as a train pulled out for the end-of-track.

“Let's find a hotel and get the horses stabled,” Danielle said. “Then I'll see what I can learn from the railroad.”

The town was large and growing, evidence enough of the prosperity that followed the coming of the rails. Danielle and her companions took rooms in one of the hotels not far from the railroad yard. It was close enough for Danielle to walk, and she did. Railroad offices were housed in a larger building that was also the terminal, and Danielle went in. A little man with spectacles looked up from the telegraph instrument on the table before him.

“I'm looking for someone who might be working for the railroad,” Danielle said. “Who do I need to talk to about him?”

“Alan Steele,” said the telegrapher. “He's personnel manager, but he's gone for the day. Nobody here but me.”

Danielle sighed. “I'll try again tomorrow.”

Slowly, she walked back to the hotel, her spirits at a low ebb. It was becoming more and more difficult to live up to her vow to find the men who had hanged her father. Herb and Jesse were eagerly awaiting her return.

“All I learned,” said Danielle, “is that I'll have to talk to the personnel director, and he's gone for the day.”

“Some bounty hunters we are,” Burris said. “We spend all our time waitin' for something or somebody, and now we're ridin' your shirttail, hoping you'll lead us to
hombres
we can't seem to find on our own.”

“Hell, I'm about ready to ride into Indian Territory and join a bunch of outlaws,” said Sellers. “There must be plenty of them with prices on their heads.”

“I don't recommend that,” Danielle said. “I've tried that, and if they take you in, you'll have to take part in whatever they're doing. You could end up on the wrong side of the law, with prices on
your
heads.”

“I haven't put that much thought into it,” said Sellers, “but I reckon you're right. I'm just not sure I'm cut out for bounty hunting. It all seemed so easy. You take a varmint in and collect the bounty. Trouble is, I never shot at a man in my life, and I wonder if I actually could. I doubt that any man with a price on his head will surrender, and that means he'll have to be brought in dead.”

“I think so,” Danielle agreed, “but you never know what you can do until it's shoot or be shot. The first
hombre
I shot was trying to kill me, and that left me no choice. If we can track down Gaddis and Byler, I'll let the two of you turn them in—or what's left of them—for the bounty.”

“That's white of you,” Sellers said, “but I don't take money that I ain't earned.”

“Me neither,” said Burris.

“Damn it,” said Danielle, “you're looking at this all wrong. I'm not bounty hunting, and I'll not be claiming any bounty. I want some varmints dead, and I won't take money just for keeping a vow I made on my pa's grave. If you're with me, and there's a bounty, you can take it or leave it. I don't want it. I'd feel like I was selling my pa's life for the money.”

“I reckon that makes sense,” Sellers said. “You're a generous man, Daniel Strange.”

“Let's get some supper,” said Burris, “and then check out the games in the saloons. It won't seem so much like we're wasting time if we can win some money.”

“I'll risk a hundred, but no more,” Danielle said.

The Wagon Wheel was the biggest and fanciest saloon in town, and that's where the trio went. Sellers and Burris took their seats at a table where a poker game was going on, while Danielle approached one of the faro tables.

“Five-dollar limit,” said the dealer. “Show me your money.”

Danielle dropped five double eagles on the green felt that covered the table. Some of the men around her cast sidelong glances at the twin Colts tied down on each hip. Losing the first three hands, Danielle then began to win. Sellers and Burris remained in the poker game as Danielle continued winning at faro. When her hundred-dollar stake increased to three hundred, she withdrew from the game. The relief on the dealer's face was obvious. She headed for the poker table where Sellers and Burris seemed engrossed in the game. They seemed to be doing well, especially Burris. There was a huge pile of chips before him, and as Danielle watched, he won another pot.

“I'm out,” said one of the players in disgust.

But as he slid back his chair, Danielle could see that he held a revolver under the table, and he wasted no time in using it. He stood up.

“Bucko,” he said to Burris, “you're just a little too damn lucky to suit me.”

Burris was caught totally by surprise, and as he went for his gun, his opponent fired.

But a second shot blended with his own, and he fell across the poker table. All eyes turned to Danielle, who still held a smoking Colt steady in her hand. Sellers was already kneeling over Burris.

“Is he alive?” Danielle asked.

“Yeah,” said Sellers, “and he wasn't cheating. Some of you take a look at his cards.”

They examined the cards Burris was holding, shaking their heads.

“That damn Winters had to be the worst poker player in town,” said the house dealer. “When he's a big loser—which is most of the time—he's got to have a dog to kick.”

“He won't be drawing any more bad poker hands,” one of the men said. “He's stone cold dead.”

One man had gone for a doctor, while another had gone for the sheriff. Doctor Avery and Sheriff Barnes arrived together.

“He'll live,” the doctor said after examining Burris.

“Who's responsible for this?” the sheriff asked, his eyes on the dead gambler.

Chapter 12

“I shot him after he gunned down a friend of mine, Sheriff,” Danielle said.

“The
hombre
Elmo Winters shot wasn't cheating, Sheriff,” said a house dealer. “Elmo had a mad on because he was losing, like he usually does.”

“I'll want you to come with me to the office,” Sheriff Barnes told Danielle.

“Not until I've seen my friend back to the hotel,” said Danielle.

“Me and the doctor can handle that,” Herb Sellers said. “You got a stretcher, Doc?”

“Yes,” said Doctor Avery. “I'll go get it.”

“Some of you tote Elmo Winters over yonder to the carpenter shop,” Sheriff Barnes said. “I'll ride out in the morning and see what Jubal and Ebeau wants to do with him.”

Danielle followed Sheriff Barnes to his office, the lawman saying nothing until they were inside. Then he spoke.

“You can start by telling me who you are and what you're doing in town.”

“I'm Daniel Strange, Sheriff, I mostly make my living gambling. You have some fine saloons here.”

“We also have some snake-mean hell-raisers here,” said Sheriff Barnes. “Elmo Winters, the
hombre
you shot, has family. There's his pa, Jubal, and his older brother, Ebeau. I'll tell you this for your own good, kid. Don't stay in town long enough for Jubal and Ebeau to find out you shot Elmo.”

“I had cause to shoot him,” Danielle said. “Are you denying that?”

“No,” said Sheriff Barnes, “he's had that coming for a long time. But his old daddy and his brother won't settle for anything less than an eye-for-an-eye. I'll ride out in the morning and tell them, so you got a little time.”

“I have business here, Sheriff,” Danielle said, “and I'm not leaving until I've seen to it. I want peace, but not the kind that comes with the grave. You can tell Elmo's kin that if they come gunning for me, they'd better be wearing their burying clothes. Now, is there anything more you need from me?”

“I reckon not,” Sheriff Barnes said. “There'll be an inquest tomorrow, but I think I'll be able to justify the shooting to the satisfaction of the court. There's witnesses aplenty.”

“I'll be here at least through tomorrow if you want anything more of me.”

Leaving the sheriff's office, Danielle returned to the hotel, knocking on the door to the room occupied by Herb Sellers and Jesse Burris. Herb opened the door and Danielle closed it behind her.

“How is he?” Danielle asked.

“Better than you'd expect, him being shot at such close range,” said Herb. “I want to thank you for buying in. I'm sorry to say it took me as much by surprise as it did Jesse, and if Winters had got off a second shot, it would of been the end of Jesse Burris. What did the sheriff want?”

“Mostly to warn me to get out of town,” Danielle said. “Elmo's pa, Jubal, and his brother, Ebeau, are the kind who'll likely come looking for me.”

Jesse Burris slept, the doctor having given him some laudanum, and for a long moment, Herb looked at his sleeping friend. Finally, he spoke.

“Jesse will be sorry he dragged you into his fight, Daniel, and I'm sorry, too. Both of us are big enough to stomp our own snakes.”

“We've all been taking our chances,” Danielle said. “Some men are poor losers. Elmo Winters was one of them. If his pa and brother come looking for trouble, they'll find it. How long does the doctor think Jesse will be laid up?”

“Maybe a week,” Herb said. “I cashed in his chips, and he'd won more than four hundred dollars. I won about half that, so we'll be able to afford the hotel until he's healed. Do you still aim to visit the Kansas-Pacific tomorrow?”

“Yes,” said Danielle. “I aim to learn something helpful if I can. If I can't, then I want to know it. Then I can move on.”

“I'll stay close by,” Herb said. “If Winters's kin come looking for you, I promise you'll not have to face them alone.”

“I'm obliged,” said Danielle, “but it was me that shot Elmo Winters, and I bought in of my own choosing. I'm not afraid of his pa or his brother. The only way they'll get me is to shoot me in the back.”

Danielle returned to her own room. She bolted the door from inside and placed the back of a chair under the knob of the door. For a long time she lay awake, unable to sleep, yet too exhausted not to.

 

Danielle was awakened by a knock on her door.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Herb,” a voice replied. “I'm about to have breakfast and thought you might join me.”

“I will,” Danielle said. “Give me time to get up and get dressed.”

Danielle dressed hurriedly and found Herb waiting in the hall.

“How's Jesse this morning?”

“Sleeping,” said Herb. “No fever yet. The doctor's coming by sometime today.”

Danielle and Herb had breakfast in a cafe, neither talking much, for it seemed there was little to be said. Danielle was thinking ahead to her meeting with Alan Steele, at the Kansas-Pacific offices, and was at a loss as to what she must do or where she must go if the railroad man refused to cooperate with her. Herb interrupted her thoughts.

“How long do you aim to stay here?”

“At least today and tonight,” Danielle said. “It's near nine o'clock, and when I leave here, I'm going straight to the Kansas-Pacific offices. Go on back to the hotel, and I'll tell you what I learn, if anything.”

The railroad terminal was a bustle of activity when Danielle arrived. In the outer office, a different telegrapher sat at the instrument, which was clattering out a message. Danielle waited until the machine was silent before speaking to the telegrapher.

“I'm Danielle Strange, and I need to talk to Alan Steele. Tell him it has to do with the recent train robbery.”

The telegrapher wasted no time in getting the message to Steele, and Danielle was led down a hall to Steele's office. She entered, closing the door behind her. Steele nodded to a chair, and she sat down. Steele was a heavy man with bushy eyebrows and a ruddy face. His eyes met hers, and Danielle spoke.

“Mr. Steele, I'd like to help you find the men who recently took a military payroll from one of your trains.”