The Big Gun (Dusty Fog's Civil War Book 3) (24 page)

‘
So
we’re using
your
weapons, huh?’ Staunce said.

‘
The
choice is mine, as the affronted party,’ Lyle pointed out. ‘They’re
a matched pair of revolvers and you’ll have first pick at
them.’

‘
And
if I refuse?’ Staunce challenged.

‘
I’ll
have you shot as a spy,’ Lyle informed him. ‘Tonight. Don’t think
your uniform will save you. My men are well-paid, loyal and
obedient.’

‘
And
what happens if I win?’

‘
With
me dead, I doubt if my men would stop you leaving.’

There was something in the
major
’s
answer, Staunce concluded. In the event of him killing Lyle, the
enlisted men might decide on discretion being the better part of
velour. Having seen Staunce accepted by the major as an officer in
the Union Army, they could decide that it would be unsafe to
continue with the affair.

In the final analysis, Staunce
knew that he must take his
chance. He preferred to fight for his life and
hoped that he might win.

Sergeant Block entered, carrying the gun
box.

~*~

In Mama
Lukie
’s
house, the lamp had been turned down low. Holding the little clay
figure between her fingers, she sat rigid in her chair. Her face
was wet with perspiration and a toneless chant came from her lips.
Oblivious of everything, even the sound of the shot which came from
the main house, she took the head of the figure between the thumb
and forefinger of her left hand, holding the body enfolded in her
right. Tensing as if preparing to make a great effort, she let out
an eerie, frightening grunt and twisted at the tiny head. Then she
sat rigid, staring blindly ahead.

~*~

Having heard
Titus
’
story—the truth, for the man was too terrified to lie—Kiowa
sheathed the bowie knife.

‘
What
you going to do with me, mister?’ Titus inquired
worriedly.

‘
Take
you back to Cap’n Fog,’ the Texan answered. ‘Get on Eric’s horse
and don’t try anything.’

Approaching the horse, Titus prepared to
mount. He had gripped the horn and was placing his left foot into
the stirrup iron when the horse, for no apparent reason, reared.
Taken by surprise, Titus was pitched away from the animal. Kiowa
swept his revolver from its holster, swinging around to try to
discover what had startled the horse. Failing to find out, he
approached the motionless figure that was sprawled on the
ground.

‘
Get
up!’ Kiowa ordered.

When Titus did not obey, the Texan knelt by
him. Taking out and lighting a match, Kiowa looked down. Holstering
his gun, he used his fingers to check on the evidence of his
eyes.

‘
Well
I’m damned!’ Kiowa breathed, standing up. ‘I’ve seen many a man
pitched by a hoss and even a couple’s’d bust their necks. But I
never saw one who bust his neck so bad without even landing on
it.’

~*~

In general, the setting up of
the duel went as it had with
Conrad Blucher. Staunce was allowed to examine the
weapons, without touching them, and satisfied himself that they
were both fully loaded. He then selected the Tranter Army revolver
that he wished to use and Block set it down on the
table.

When starting the count, Block
noticed that Lyle
’s hand was held at the same height as ‘Schmidt’s’, about
eight inches over the weapon’s butt, instead of being higher.
Clearly the major regarded this latest interloper as being far more
dangerous than the previous one.

For his part, Lyle was fully
aware of the danger. This was no civilian, but a tough, efficient,
trained soldier. However, the major felt confident in the
advantages given to him by his imported weapons. Watching
‘Schmidt’, in the
hope of discovering traces of alarm, Lyle became uneasy. Unless he
missed his guess, the captain was not over impressed by his air of
mocking self-satisfaction. Certainly it was having far less
observable effect than it had had against the Southron newspaper
owner.

Alert for treachery, yet not willing to make
a move before the count reached its assigned number, Staunce
studied his enemy. That Lyle felt confident of success was certain,
despite everything seeming to be fair and above board. The
Englishman could not shake off a nagging feeling that there must be
a joker somewhere in the deck.

‘
F
our!’ Block said.

Without waiting for the count
to go further, Lyle
’s hand started to drop.

‘
Five!’ the Yankee sergeant said quickly.

Having already seen the danger, Staunce
dipped his right palm on to the handle of the waiting Tranter.
Swiftly as he moved, he was just that vital shade too slow. Lyle
was already starting to lift his weapon.

From the first moment that the
Englishman
’s
fingers began to hook under and close around the Tranter’s butt, he
started to realize where his enemy’s ace-in-the-hole lay. Staunce
had fired a Tranter a couple of times, but that had been before he
came to fight for the Confederate States. Since then, he had used
an 1860 Army Colt, which was a very different
proposition.

The Tranter
’s handle did not offer the
smooth, hand-fitting curve of the Colt and could not be grasped so
readily. For all that, Staunce managed to commence raising his
weapon.

But not as swiftly as
Lyle
’s
Tranter was lifting into alignment!

There was another, even more radical
difference between the Army Colt and the Tranter. One which was to
cost Staunce dearly.

While the Englishman was aware
that the Tranter operated by a double-action mechanism, that fact
failed to register in his mind under the stress of the situation.
Instead, his thumb automatically
—and without the need for conscious
thought—tried to draw the hammer to full cock, as would have been
necessary if he was using a single-action Colt. When the thumb did
not locate the hammer’s spur that he was seeking, he became
confused and flustered.

And that a time when every split second was
of vital importance.

Smoothly adopting his
double-handled hold, Lyle took rapid and careful aim. While raising
the Tranter, he had also started to squeeze the trigger. He had no
need to make himself recollect that the weapon
’s hammer did not carry a spur
by which it could be thumb-cocked. The mechanism had caused the
hammer to have almost reached its rearmost position by the time the
barrel was pointing in the Englishman’s direction. Continuing to
manipulate the trigger, the major allowed the hammer to be
propelled forward once more.

With his borrowed revolver still a long way
from a position in which he could use it to protect himself,
Staunce knew that he was beaten.

Flame gushed from the muzzle of
Lyle
’s
Tranter and its bullet flew true. He had aimed for an instant kill
and achieved his desire. Struck in the head, Staunce discarded the
second Tranter. He was twisted away from the table and measured his
length upon the floor.

As against Blucher and
Lyle
’s
previous pair of victims, training and experience had proved to be
the deciding factor.

‘
You’d
better make sure that the back of the island’s guarded extra
carefully tonight, Block,’ Lyle ordered, lowering his smoking
revolver. ‘And I want a couple of men out there every night from
now on. You’ll personally make sure that they keep a damned sight
better watch than they have been doing. He’s the second bastard to
have landed.’

‘
Sure,’ Block answered sullenly, not caring for the extra
work carrying out the order would entail. ‘What about when his
escort come looking for him?’

‘
We’ll
just say that he never arrived,’ Lyle answered. ‘And I’ll count on
you to help me see that nobody says different.’

While Staunce had died, he had also
prevented his captors and killer from suspecting his true identity
and purpose on the island.

‘
Captain Dustine Edward Marsden
Fog!’
Harriet Cable said, her quietly spoken words redolent of
deepest suspicion, as she continued to manipulate the pair of oars
with some ability. ‘Are you
sure
that you don’t know how to row a boat?’

‘
Like
I told you, we don’t need boats down home to Rio Hondo County,’ the
small Texan replied evasively, but in no louder tones than the girl
had used. ‘And seeing’s how you-all’ve showed that you can do it so
quietly and well, I’m happy to sit back here and let you go on
doing it.’

‘
Why
thank you, ’most to death,’ the girl sniffed, using an expression
which she had heard her companion employ on occasion. ‘You’re a
Southron gentleman for sure.’

‘
I’m
not supposed to be a
Southron
gentleman right now,’ Dusty pointed out and looked
down at his blackened hands. ‘Anyway, it’s all your own fault that
you’re doing the rowing.’

‘
How
do you mean?’

‘
It
was you who pointed out that the Yankees might be keeping a better
guard on the back of the island, seeing that Mr. Blucher and Doug
had managed to land. And how those Yankees would likely expect to
see a colored
girl
doing the rowing when she and her beau came to
call.’

‘
There’s times when I talk so much that it hurts,’ Harry
declared ruefully, although she knew that her presence at the oars
might go a long way towards convincing any watchers that she and
the small Texan were a couple of young Negroes casually visiting
the island. ‘I don’t suppose we could go back and fetch those two
Yankee prisoners to do the rowing?’

‘
That’d be against the conventions of war,’ Dusty pointed
out.

‘
Somebody should make conventions for protecting poor
innocent girls like me from men like you,’ Harry groaned, then
became serious. ‘What do you think has happened to Doug,
Dusty?’

‘
I
don’t know,’ the small Texan answered and all the levity—which, to
be fair to her, Harry had used as a means of reducing her
understandable nervous tension—came to an end. He knew that he
could rely upon her not to panic if the situation should turn the
wrong way. ‘But I hope I can find out before we come
away.’

It was close to eleven
o
’clock on
the night following Captain Douglas St. John Staunce’s capture;
which was all his companions knew for certain regarding his fate.
The girl and Dusty were on their way to Cable’s island to make
contact with the Negroes, as the Englishman apparently had been
unable to do so. A secondary part of their mission was to try to
find out what had happened to Staunce and, if he should still be
alive and the chance presented itself, to try to rescue
him.

Having given
Titus
’s body
the same kind of treatment that Eric’s had received, Kiowa had
hidden the boat. Then he had ridden the three horses in a relay to
make the best possible speed and rejoin Company C without delay. On
his arrival, he had found that his companions had picked up two
enlisted men from Captain Stabruck’s scattered command. Being city
dwellers, they and the others who had fled the scene of the ambush
had soon found themselves in difficulties when separated from their
experienced leaders. Only chance had brought the pair in the
correct direction. Gathered in by Dusty’s flank riders, they had
been only too pleased to surrender if doing so caused them to be
fed. Hoping that he could make use of the pair later, Dusty had
been only too willing to feed them and accept the slight extra work
involved in guarding them.

Calling together Harry, her
father, the two sergeant
majors and sergeants, Dusty had had them listen to
Kiowa’s report. The scout had told them all he had learned from
Titus and mentioned the strange manner in which the traitor had
died, but without attempting to offer any explanation for the
circumstances. Possibly only Cable and Harry, due to their long
association with Negroes, came close to guessing the truth. The
engineer had mentioned his theory of how Titus’ neck had come to be
broken, but that aspect had not received any debate. Far more
important at that moment had been that if—impossible as it might
have seemed—Mama Lukie was involved in her nephew’s death, she must
have known that her son had been murdered by the Yankees and much
more.

‘
In
which case,’ Cable had stated, ‘she’ll be all the more willing to
help us get the rest of her people away from the
island.’

Although Dusty had hoped that
his English
amigo
might be held as a prisoner, he was secretly resigned to
the thought that Staunce was probably dead. Maybe even killed in a
similar duel to the one which had ended Conrad Blucher’s
life.