Ralph Compton Whiskey River (19 page)

Liz Barton and what remained of the Barton gang soon found that word of their ignominious defeat and the death of Frank Barton had spread throughout Indian Territory. Nobody wanted to join the Barton gang—whatever the possibilities—and some laughed openly when they learned Liz Barton had taken over leadership.

“Now what?” Lefty Paschal wanted to know.

“I'm not sure,” said Liz. “One thing for certain, we won't be taking the whiskey away from Estrello's outfit.”

They rode back to their camp alongside a creek and found the rest of the riders were trying to beat the August heat by dunking themselves in the stream.

“Get out of there,” Liz ordered. “There's something you need to know.”

“I reckon we already know,” said Whit Sumner. “You and Lefty come back alone. That tells me nobody wants any part of the Barton bunch.”

Without another word, they crawled out of the creek. They pulled on their trousers, buttoned their shirts, and stomped their feet into their boots. Buckling on their gun belts, then putting on their hats, they headed toward their picketed horses.

“No,” Liz cried, aware of what they were about to do. “We can make it. We just need more time.”

“Time just run out,” said Hez DeShea.

They saddled their horses, mounted, and rode away toward Indian Territory.

“Now what, boss?” Lefty Paschal asked.

“Before I do anything else,” said Liz, “I'm going in that water and wash myself.”

“Am I permitted to join you?” Lefty asked. “I'd hate to shock your modesty.”

“Do whatever you please,” said Liz. “I'm not your keeper.”

Fully aware of the riches Wolf Estrello had brought to them, the outlaws let it appear that Estrello still had control of the gang. Only Captain Savage knew otherwise, and he had not been allowed to speak to the other captains. Attempting to demonstrate his authority and strength, Estrello again entered the pilothouse.

“What's wrong with these damn boats?” Estrello demanded. “Is this top speed?”

“It is,” said Captain Savage shortly.

“Then why ain't we makin' as good a time as we did goin' upriver?”

“Because the boats are fully loaded now,” Captain Savage said. “Get out of here and leave me alone.”

Wilder no longer thought of himself as “second-in-command,” and when Estrello left the pilothouse, Wilder came up to him and said, “He ain't speeded up none.”

“Captain Savage says they're at full speed. Anyhow, we're in fourth place now. Orders must come from Captain Savage. Damn it, we can't go any faster than the other boats. Are you prepared to tell the other captains why you want more speed?”

“No,” Wilder admitted, “I reckon you're right. We got to keep this thing a secret from the rest of the captains until we get to the landing near Forth Smith.”

“Renato, Jabez, and Schorp,” Estrello shouted.

“What are you wantin' them for?” Wilder asked suspiciously.

“To take care of something we should have thought of before,” said Estrello.

He said nothing more until the trio arrived, and Estrello spoke to them. “Go to the lower deck where the horses are, and move them all to the other end of the steamboat. Stretch a rope from one side of the boat to the other, to keep them there.”

“Why?” Franklin Schorp asked.

“To keep them out of the line of fire if there's shooting,” said Estrello. “You want to reach the landing at Fort Smith and find your horse has been killed by a stray slug?”

The three men looked at Wilder, who said irritably, “Go ahead and do what he says. It makes sense. We don't know what kind of weapons Laird's bunch may have aboard that steamboat.”

“Now,” said Wilder, when the three had gone, “you have so much confidence in that Gatling gun, don't you reckon it's time to find out if there's any ammunition for it, and where you can find it?”

“I suppose,” Estrello said, hating the smug look on Wilder's face.

“Then get with it,” said Wilder. “I'm sure Captain Savage would like to see you.”

When Estrello entered the pilothouse, Captain Savage ignored him.

“Damn it,” said Estrello, “I'm talking to you. Where's the belts of ammunition for the Gatling gun?”

“I have no idea,” Captain Savage said. “The gun was mounted there by order, over my protest, and if any ammunition was brought aboard, I don't know where it is.”

“You lie,” said Estrello, drawing his Colt.

“Put the gun away,” Captain Savage said calmly, “unless you have a man who can pilot this steamboat.”

Wilder still had a guard posted outside the pilothouse, and through the glassed-in portion, McLean watched with interest, as Estrello drew his Colt. Just as quickly, Estrello replaced the weapon and stomped out of the pilothouse. Frustrated beyond words, the next person Estrello encountered was Wilder. He said nothing, and it was Wilder who spoke.

“Well, where's the ammunition for the gun?”

“Savage claims he don't know if there is any, or where it is,” said Estrello. “You want me to go back in there and shoot the bastard?”

“I want
you
to find the ammunition for that damn Gatling gun, wherever it is,” Wilder said. “It was you brought all this down on us.”

Estrello considered asking for help from some of the men, but thought better of it. All of them, while excited over the wealth with which he had returned, seemed to blame
him
for the expected pursuit. Estrello found nothing on the first deck and went on to the next deck, where the horses were. He went in among the animals, and one of the horses reared, nickering.

“Settle down, damn you,” Estrello growled.

It was at that end of the deck, in among the horses, that Estrello finally found what he was seeking. A dirt-encrusted brass ring had been sunk into the wooden deck, and with a mighty heave, Estrello raised the trapdoor. There he counted a dozen wooden boxes, only one of which had been opened. From the open box he took a full belt of ammunition. Saul Renato and Phelps Brice claimed to know how to fire the Gatling gun. Now was the time to find out. Estrello was in no mood for Wilder again, but the outlaw was watching for him.

“Well,” said Wilder, “I see you found it. How much is there?”

“A dozen cases, six hundred rounds each,” Estrello growled.

“Just in case you get gunned down, you'd better tell me where it is,” said Wilder.

“Go to hell,” Estrello said. “Look for it like I did.”

Estrello found Brice and Renato, and they followed him to the upper deck, where the Gatling gun had been mounted.

“How much shells?” Renato asked.

“According to the boxes, 7,200 rounds,” said Estrello. “I'll show you where the rest of it is, but first I want to watch you get this gun ready. We're likely to need it any time.”

Brice turned the gun's crank, finding that it moved easily. Renato fed in the belt of brass cartridges, lining up the first ones in firing position.

“She ready to shoot,” Renato said.

“This one has six chambers instead of ten,” said Estrello. “How fast does it shoot?”
³

“Depends on how fast you can crank the cylinder,” said Brice. “We're damn lucky this one's mounted on the deck. Them with wheels jump around some, and it ain't easy findin' the range.”

“Need more shells,” Renato said. “This be two, maybe three volleys.”

“Come on,” said Estrello. “The rest of 'em are on the lower deck.”

 

On the
Star
, Clemans and Nick Ursino stood by the rail facing the huge paddle wheel. It was difficult to see anything except the three steamboats following them.

“That amnesty we've been talkin' about seems to be gettin' farther and farther away,” Nick said. “Not only are we in the midst of a bunch of varmints who would kill us for any reason or no reason at all, we're being pursued by a boatload of
hombres
with revenge on their minds.”

“Let us not forget the revelation that Amanda and Betsy may or may not be able to find that hidden gold,” said Vernon. “I'm startin' to wonder if there is any gold.”

“Oh, there's gold, all right,” Nick said. “I think old Jake Miles feared for his life, and he allowed Amanda and Betsy to take the gold and hide it. I believe it was Jake's way of keeping them alive after he was gone.”

“Now they're not sure they can find the gold again,” said Vernon. “If they can't, they won't be of any use to Estrello and these outlaws. You know what that means.”

The negative conversation came to an end when Mark, Bill, Amanda, and Betsy joined the duo at the rail.

“If they're coming,” Mark said, “I'm surprised they haven't caught up to us.”

“Maybe they're waiting for dark,” said Nick. “Vernon and me was just wondering what had become of them.”

“Don't be so anxious,” Bill said. “This could be more dangerous than anything else we have to face. There's so much metal on these steamboats, a ricochet could take a man's head off.”

“You're right about that,” said Mark. “If they do catch up to us, Amanda, I want you and Betsy on the lower deck.”

“Let's talk some more about that missing gold,” Nick said.

“There's nothing more to be said,” Bill replied, irritated. “It's been five years, and with wind, rain, and snow the land can change.”

“I don't want any of you sparing my feelings,” Betsy said. “We all have to pay for our mistakes. Amanda and me made a big one.”

“Not necessarily,” said Nick. “After Jake had tried to be a father to both of you, how could you refuse to help him? I don't fault either of you for that.”

“We'll just play out the hand,” Todd Keithley said. “It's all we can do.”

 

Brice and Renato brought up half a dozen cases of ammunition for the Gatling gun. At sundown, McCarty shouted a warning.

“Another steam boat comin', follwerin' us.”

“We don't know for sure it's them,” Wilder said.

“Brice, Renato, get the Gatling ready,” said Estrello.

Drawn by the excited commotion, Mark, Bill, and their companions hurried down the upper deck. By then the black-and-gold steamboat was within range of Estrello's
Aztec.
The first shot from a Sharps .50 shattered the glass in the captain's cabin. The shooting became more intense, lead screaming off the metal parts of the steamboat.

“Amanda, Betsy, come on,” Mark said. “Lower deck, and stay on the side farthest from that approaching steamboat.”

Amanda and Betsy went without complaint. Some of Estrello's men were firing their Winchesters without effect. The range was still too great.

“They're using Sharps .50s,” Wilder shouted. “Damn it, fire that Gatling gun before they cut us to ribbons.”

“They ain't close enough,” Brice snarled.

But the shooting from the pursuing steamboat continued. Jabez took a slug in his chest and was dead when he struck the deck. Leaving Amanda and Betsy on the lower deck, Bill and Mark ran for the upper deck. Their Winchesters were in the wagons, and a hail of lead plowed into the wooden main deck of the steamboat as they ran toward their wagons. Clemans, Keithley, Ursino, and Stackler were bellied down on deck, firing their Winchesters, seemingly without effect. McCarty hunkered down behind the damaged pilothouse, watching Captain Savage. Dodging lead, Estrello reached the pilot's cabin. He drew his Colt, and when Captain Savage turned to face him, Estrello spoke.

“They're running just out of range of the Gatling gun and our Winchesters,” Estrello said. “It'd dark enough so they can't see us all that well. Slow this thing down some, so they can get closer.”

“No,” Captain Savage shouted.

Estrello seized the front of Savage's shirt in his left hand, while the Colt in his right had its muzzle directly under the captain's nose.

“Listen, damn it,” Estrello shouted, “they're gonna sink us if we don't stop them. You slow this steamboat down, or by the Eternal, I'll shoot you and take my chances.”

Estrello let go of Captain Savage, and the captain turned back to the controls. Slowly, the steamboat lost speed, and Estrello yelled at the two men prepared to fire the Gatling.

“Fire! They're close enough. Fire the Gatling!”

 

Aboard the pursuing steamboat, the men were jubilant. While their fire was raking the deck of the steamboat ahead, their quarry was still out of Winchester range, unable to effectively return the fire. Wills made a run for the pilothouse and Captain Tyndall. Lead shrieked all around him as the buffalo guns cut loose a covering volley.

“Tyndall,” said Wills, “stay within range of our buffalo guns, but not within range of their Winchesters.”

“They've slowed down some,” Tyndall said. “I'll try to match their speed.”

But the sun was down, dusk fast approaching, and visibility wasn't good. With a crash like rolling thunder, the Gatling gun sent a fusillade of lead at the pursuing steamboat. Two of Wills's men were killed, and two more seriously wounded.

“Tyndall,” Wills shouted, “fall back! Fall back!”

Tyndall had slowed some, but they were still within range of the Gatling gun. Another blast from the big gun wounded two more men. Finally, they were out of range.