Wanted! Belle Starr! (3 page)

Once again, the trio were to be
thwarted!

However, on this occasion, the intervention
was by somebody whose views on sporting conduct were clearly better
attuned to the needs of the situation!

Clad in all black clothing, of
the style which was practically
de rigueur
for a cowhand from Texas, except that his
sharp toed boots had low heels, the most recent arrival upon the
scene was tall, with a whipcord slender build and Indian dark,
almost babyishly handsome features which made him appear very
young. Dangling suspended by its
barbiquejo
chin strap on his shoulders, his hat left
exposed glossy black hair which had recently been cut to an
acceptable shortness. Regardless of his facial appearance, unlike
his predecessor, he was not without visible weapons. On the
contrary, he was remarkably well armed. The Winchester Model of
1873 rifle he was carrying, its finish being of a much higher grade
than given to standard production pieces, was augmented by an old
Colt Dragoon Model of 1848 revolver, butt forward in the holster on
the right side of his gunbelt, and an ivory handled James Black
bowie knife of massive dimensions in a sheath at the
left.

Advancing swiftly and silently, the young
Texan made no attempt to announce his presence in any way until he
was close enough to do so with most effect. Even then, he did not
speak. Instead, he delivered a round arm swing which slammed the
twenty-six inch octagonal barrel of the rifle against the side of
Henry’s head. The impact twirled the tallest of the cousins towards
the wall of the saloon. Striking and rebounding from the unyielding
planks, he went down in the limp and uncaring fashion of one who
had been rendered unconscious.

Seeing what happened to Henry, Jubal forgot
his intention of repaying the punch he had taken from the New
Englander. Instead, he started to reach for his holstered Colt and
began to turn upon the latest arrival. Without so much as having
broken stride while felling the tallest cousin, holding the rifle
with only his right hand grasping the wrist of the butt
disregarding the fact that it was not an ordinary production model,
but one of the rare “One Of A Thousand” type so highly prized and
much sought after on account of their superlative quality he
continued to use it as a club rather than a firearm. Reversing the
direction it was travelling, the barrel swept around just as
rapidly and arrived with an equal force against Jubal’s jaw before
the draw was completed. He was sent in a headlong plunge against
the other building, from which he flopped to sprawl unmoving on the
ground.

Alarmed by the unexpected and decidedly
disturbing way in which the affair was developing, Bert shoved the
New Englander forward and also elected to continue the hostilities
with his revolver. As he was reaching for it, Belle lurched from
where she had been flung and rammed shoulder first into his back.
He was sent after the young man he had pushed in the direction of
the black dressed Texan, but was not offered an opportunity to halt
what he sensed to be a most undesirable movement.

Stepping aside with the casual-seeming ease
of a master toreador avoiding the charge of an inexperienced bull,
the second rescuer took himself clear of the blond and into view of
the last cousin. Catching the wooden foregrip of the Winchester
with his left hand, he lunged as if he was a soldier delivering an
attack with a bayonet. Jabbed just below the breastbone with the
muzzle of the weapon, all the breath left Bert’s lungs in an
agonized “whoosh!” As he was stumbling away and all thoughts of
pulling the Colt were obliterated, the rifle was brought up to hook
beneath his descending jaw. Giving a surging heave, indicative of
the powerful muscles of the slender frame, the Texan lifted and
flung him backwards. His head slammed against the ground and he too
lapsed into immobility.

“
Now I wouldn’t want to go
sounding all pushy and nosey afore we’ve so much’s said, ‘Howdy,
you-all’, formal-like, Mr. Bullstrode,” remarked the Indian dark
and most effective young intruder, his Texas drawl a musical tenor,
having glanced around to ensure there was no further need for
hostile action against the trio. “But, happen you’re figuring on
staying out west of the Big Muddy and aim to keep billing in on
other folk’s doings, no matter should it be thought polite back to
home, I wouldn’t keep on shouting to let them know you’re coming
for ’em, head down ’n’ horns a-hooking.”

“
Lon!” Belle ejaculated,
before the New Englander could reply to what she considered was
excellent advice, pausing as she was bending to retrieve the hat
and wig. “Lon Ysabel. Well I’ll be damned if it isn’t
you!”

“
Well now,” replied the
Ysabel Kid, showing none of the surprise he was experiencing over
the lady whom he and the young Easterner had rescued. “There’s some
might say’s how you’ll be damned ’most any ways it’s
taken.”

“
I’ve heard the same thing
said about you and with better reason,” the lady outlaw claimed,
noticing that the young Texan had not given any suggestion of
knowing her true identity. Picking up and starting to replace her
dislodged property, the hat being secured by a pin to the wig, she
went on, “But I’ll give you one thing. You boys of Ole Devil’s
floating outfit surely know how to come to hand when you’re most
badly needed.”

“
That’s been said so
often, it must be truthful true,” the Kid asserted, with a spurious
modesty he knew would be expected by the beautiful young women.
“Only this time, I’d say you’re luckier’n you know.”

“
How come?” Belle
inquired.

“
We should’ve got here
two-three days back,” the Texan explained, directing the words to
the New Englander as much as the lady outlaw. “Which’s how-all I
got to be on hand right now. Cap’n Fog’s sent me on ahead to let
you know’s how he’s on his way in, Mr. Bullstrode. The desk clerk
down to the hotel told me’s you’d just gone out ’n’ who to look
for. Trouble being, just afore I could catch up and say, ‘Howdy,
you-all’, I saw you headed in here at a rush and concluded I’d best
come see what was doing.”

“
I’m pleased you did,”
Andrew Bullstrode declared, but a note of bitterness came into his
voice as he continued, “Only I wish Captain Fog could have got here
on time, because I’ve made a god-damned fool of myself while I was
waiting.”

“
How come?” the Kid
inquired.

“
I met a young woman at
the hotel—!” the New Englander began, too miserable to hold back
the confession he knew he would eventually be compelled to make
elsewhere, even though he was in the presence of
strangers.

“
How about telling us what
happened while we’re walking?” Belle suggested, her manner
sympathetic. “I’d rather not stay here until the marshal or some of
his deputies come to find out why those three knob-heads have been
treated so rough.”

“
Or me, comes to that,”
the Kid supported, being sufficiently well acquainted with the lady
outlaw to understand her disinclination to be interviewed by the
local peace officers. “The John Laws in this town aren’t a bunch of
Kansas fighting pimps like those god-damned Earp boys, but they
don’t take kind’ to having fellers whomped about so cruel, no
matter why it’s done. I know we-all had right good cause to whomp
’em, but I’d sooner not spend the time it’ll take telling the why
of it.”

“
But—!” Bullstrode began
his upbringing in the best part of Newark, New Jersey, having
imbued a strong sense of respect for law and order which led him to
consider the proposal far from ethical.

“
From what you’ve told us
so far, my guess is that the sooner we hear the rest of your story
the better,” the lady outlaw claimed. “And we won’t be able to do
that while the marshal or his deputies are questioning us, even if
you wanted them to hear what you have to say. On top of which, I’ve
got what I reckon to be pretty sound reasons for not wanting to
give them a chance to talk to me,”

“
I’m going to walk along
with ‘Miss Beauregard’ for a spell,” the Kid declared, in a tone
which brooked no argument, having deduced from the disguise that
Belle would not want her true identity revealed and employing one
of her favorite aliases. “And, going by what you started to say,
I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’re sort of caught ’tween a rock and a
hard place. Which being, I reckon you’d best come and tell us all
about it.”

“
You’re certainly right in
assuming I’m in trouble,” Andrew Bullstrode confessed, as he was
accompanying Belle Starr and the Ysabel Kid in the direction from
which, unbeknown to him, she had entered the alley. Feeling a
desperate need to talk to somebody, the further realization that
the Indian dark young Texan would have to be told what had happened
was giving him all the inducement necessary to do so. “I met this
young woman in the dining-room at the hotel while I was having
dinner last night and, seeing she looked somewhat distressed, got
to talking with her. She finally told me, after some prompting, she
was in difficulty because her brother had lost a lot of money in a
game of poker—!”

“
She’s about my height,”
the lady outlaw interposed, bringing the explanation to a halt as
the New Englander glanced at her in a doubtful fashion. “A real
pretty blonde, unless she’s changed its color, who looks like
butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Seeing that I’m not inclined to
be catty, well not especially, I’ll say she’s willowy in build and
not skinny.”

“
Yes, she is!” the blond
haired young man gasped, swinging his gaze rapidly towards the
speaker instead of giving his attention to the Kid. “But
how—?”

“
And,” the lady outlaw
went on, as if the interruption to her description had never been
made. “Because her brother had had to leave town earlier that
afternoon, she wanted you to go along with her to hand over payment
for an IOU he’d signed to cover his losses.”

“
Why yes, that’s exactly
how it was!” Bullstrode ejaculated, staring practically goggle-eyed
at the young woman he had assumed to be nothing more than a less
then respectable acquaintance of the black clad Texan. “But how did
you know?”

“
Then, on the way to the
game, which her ‘brother’ had assured her was completely honest,
she found out you reckoned yourself a better than fair poker
player,” Belle continued, without supplying the information which
had been requested. “After which, she suggested you should use her
savings and try to win back at least some of the money he’d lost
and, with her being so sweet, innocent and defenseless to look at,
you were enough of the gallant gentleman to give it a whirl. Only,
instead of getting back her ‘brother’s’ money, you lost all she’d
given you and, in trying to get that back, got through all of your
own.”

“
I don’t know how you
know, but that’s just the way it happened!” Bullstrode admitted,
hoping he was not sounding and looking as big a fool as he felt
whilst listening to a surprisingly accurate description of the
previous night’s events. Realizing there must be vastly more to the
beautiful and garishly dressed young woman than appeared upon the
surface, certainly that she was something vastly different from
what he had taken her for although he could not envisage her exact
status he went on in a voice redolent of the misery and shame he
had been experiencing all day, “Except that it wasn’t just my own
money I lost!”

“
Do tell,” the Kid
drawled, in what seemed a disinterested manner and was, in fact,
considered as being by the New Englander. The Kid had sensed that
the final words of the confession were intended more for him than
the lady outlaw. “So this skinny lil gal and her good buddies took
you for all the cash you were sent here to pass on to Ole Devil,
huh?”

“
Every last cent of it!”
Bullstrode confirmed, his voice scarcely louder than a whisper.
“God, I was such a fool!”

“
Well, yes, it sounds like
you just could’ve been at that,” the Texan asserted, but his
demeanor gave little or no indication of how he was receiving the
news that the large sum of money intended for his employer, General
Jackson Baines “Ole Devil” Hardin, had been lost in a game of
poker. “Thing being, was you cheated?”

“
I think I must have
been,” the New Englander answered. “But I can’t imagine how they
did it. Everything seemed straight and above board.”

“
It ’most always does,
happen them doing the taking’re good enough,” the Kid declared.
“How’d they take you?”

“
Almost all of it went on
the final pot,” Bullstrode replied, quietly and with the bitterness
of desperation. “I was holding four jacks and an ace dealt pat and
everybody else drew at least two cards. The betting was pretty
heavy until, at last, only Reverend Huckfield and I were
left.”

“
Reverend Huckfield?” the
Kid queried.

“
That’s how he was
introduced to me,” the New Englander confirmed. “I’ve known other
members of the clergy who like to gamble for high stakes and, him
being in the game, I felt sure it must be honest.”

“
Most folks would have
felt the same,” Belle commiserated as the explanation was brought
to an embarrassed end. “That’s why the Reverend Huckfield was
sitting in. So how did the play go?”

“
He’d taken three cards on
the draw,” Bullstrode explained, at last having accepted, instead
of trying to fight off the belief, that he had been taken in by a
well devised and executed plot. “And, as I’d seen a queen and a
couple of kings thrown in when the others folded, I couldn’t see
how I could possibly be beaten by any hand he’d filled.”