The Cassidy Posse (24 page)

“Certainly,” he said, coming to their aid as they helped their wounded comrade out of the saddle.

“I’m okay, Doc,” Slim insisted. “The bullet just knicked me in my side. Been shot up worse than this before.”

“You still shouldn’t have been riding. Makes it bleed more. How did this happen?”

“That sonavabitchin’ Kid Del Rio done it,” said Stubby.

“He wanted us tah charge down to this cabin and shoot it out with the Hole-in-the-Wall gang,” chimed in Bob.

Little Jake silenced them with a dirty look. He figured the less known about this the better.

“I told the Major that guy was crazy,” Doc Bingham said. He pulled Slim’s shirt away to get a look at the wound.

At the far end of the wagon, just out of the fire’s light, a large presence was taking in the whole scene. Mr. Simms’s had asked for a man that could lead men and would kill for money without hesitation. It was becoming apparent that the Major had only given him the latter part of the bargain with Kid Del Rio.

“I don’t know about you fellas,” said Little Jake, “but I’ve had about enough of this shit. I’m for headin’ back tah Texas as soon as Slim gets patched up.”

“You boys weren’t going to leave without seeing me first,” said a low booming voice from the shadows. Mr. Simms appeared suddenly in the campfire’s glow like a huge angry grizzly. “Since Kid Del Rio isn’t with you, am I to assume you failed in your mission?”

Bob and Stubby were taken back by his sudden appearance and froze. The Doctor looked as though he were about to say something but thought better of it. Little Jake, however, was not lost for words in the presence of any man.

“Well, if you’re the fella that put Kid Del Rio in charge, I’ll have to tell you it was doomed from the get go.”

“I picked him because I knew he could kill,” explained Mr. Simms, unaccustomed to having to explain himself.

“Killin’ was about the only thing the Kid could do all right,” said Jake, “but a bear will kill, and it would have to be smarter than the Kid. He charged right into a gang of rustlers.”

It was a strange land and Mr. Simms was unfamiliar with the nature of the men with whom he was dealing. He made this explanation of his bad judgment to himself and he was satisfied. In the darkness, Little Jake and his crew heard the sound of his lever action rifle being cocked.

“I gave Kid Del Rio a sizeable down payment on this job. Since you didn’t kill the detective, my associates would insist I collect the money back.”

“What money?” asked little Jake in genuine surprise. The others looked equally stunned.

“I gave Kid Del Rio a five hundred dollar advance in gold,” he said, watching each face to judge their reaction. “I assume he gave you part of it before you took off this morning.”

“That greedy sonavabitch,” said Little Jake and Slim in unison.

“Mister, we ain’t seen a dollar of your gold,” said Stubby, his tone pleading.

Mr. Simms looked at Bob from Fort Worth who appeared to be genuinely terrified. He could not speak but managed to shake his head, silently indicating his agreement.

“That’s why he kept reaching back and fiddlin’ with his saddle bags,” said Slim.

“And that’s why he changed tah that big horse before we left,” said Little Jake.

“Where’s his horse at now?” asked Mr.Simms.

“It ran off after he got hit,” said Little Jake without missing a beat.

Mr. Simms leaned the length of his full frame against the wagon as he considered the matter before him. He believed these men did not have the money. Their shocked reactions seemed sincere. In hindsight, it would also appear to be out of character for Kid Del Rio to share anything. Apparently there was not the same honor among thieves in the States that there was in South Africa. Your mates stood by you there.

“I’ve decided not to kill you men,” he announced with a chilling finality that suggested he would have no problem doing so. “I think you are telling the truth.”

Little Jake was about to say something when Slim reached up and gripped his shoulder. He liked the big man’s thinking so far and didn’t want Little Jake to open his big mouth and change his mind.

“I have lost confidence in my plan to end it out here on the open range. I don’t know the land well enough and I can’t seem to hire dependable men to get the job done. I do wish to hire two of you, the best guide and scout among you, for ten dollars a day to take me to the nearest town with a working telegraph and the railroad running through it. The Major has had men cutting the lines around here for days while his circus train lumbers through the countryside. I need to get word back to my employers in Chicago so I can get somebody dependable to finish this.”

“Best guides. That would be Bob and Stubby here,” said Little Jake quickly. Stubby looked puzzled and started to protest, but Little Jake looped his arm around his neck and squeezed playfully. Bob stood smiling at the compliment.

“Charley,” yelled Little Jake towards the teamster in the shadows. “What’s the nearest town that the telegraph works?”

“Gillette,” came the reply.

“They have the railroad there?”

“No, there ain’t. You may as well go back to Cheyenne to catch a train.”

“Then Cheyenne it is,” announced Mr. Simms.

“Hell, these fellas know how to get from here to Cheyenne. It’s only about a day or so ride. I got tah stick with my partner Slim here ‘til he can ride.”

“Fine,” said Mr. Simms. “You two come with me. We will leave first thing in the morning.” As he walked away with Bob and Stubby in tow, he turned back to Little Jake.

“I know you’re the best scout, but I find you so annoying I would probably end up killing you. Then I would be delayed trying to make my own way. Good luck finding that horse with the golden saddlebags. It’s a big country to find one horse in, and you have no guarantee someone else hasn’t already found it and the gold.”

Little Jake smiled sheepishly like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He and Slim disappeared into the darkness.

The fugitives from the Hole-in-the-Wall intersected the road to Buffalo about ten miles south of town. They moved in a disconnected column with Red Alvins riding proudly at the head. Butch was careful to keep the posse a safe distance back. He worried that Sean or one of the other Chicago jailbirds might recognize Mike. There seemed to be an unusual amount of traffic going south. Red held up his hand to stop a wagon with six well-armed men in it.

“Where you boys going’?” he said with fake civility. “Got a little huntin’ trip planned?”

“Huntin’ trip, hell,” said the beer-bellied, unkempt teamster driving the wagon. “I’m deliverin’ these fresh recruits to the battlefield. Ain’t you boys heard about the invasion?”

“That’s why I’m headin’ tah Buffalo,” replied Red. “I’m lookin’ for Mr. Snyder. I got some top hired guns for him. We’ll turn back the invasion. No use you boys gettin’ hurt.”

“Well, I doubt like hell Mr. Snyder is goin’ tah hire any guns. He’s got volunteers coming in from all over Wyoming. He can’t find rifles for them all.”

Red looked somewhat agitated at this revelation. Riley and the other malcontents in his gang looked really agitated. The money was the only draw for them. They lacked Red’s fervor to become a part of Wyoming history.

“Well, he sent for me personally,” Red lied.

“If’un that be the case, yah my as well tag along with us. Mr. Snyder is south of here runnin’ things out of the Covington place. The invaders turned back when they see’d what they wuz up against and now we gottem surrounded at the TA Ranch. They’s all dug in like the Rebs at Vicksburg. It’s gonna be a hell of a fight gettin’ them outah there.”

Butch and the posse closed the gap between themselves and Red Alvins’ bunch. Butch had just finished spreading the word as quietly as possible that they should wait until they got to Buffalo to make their move to capture Sean Daugherty. With the presence of the Sundance Kid in their midst, there was no way to discuss details. Neither Butch nor Elzy were sure how the lethal killer would take to being part of a posse. He definitely knew something was going on and would not leave until his curiosity was satisfied. He seemed to be enjoying the ride, tagging along when he sensed he was not wanted. This made Jack and Luke very edgy. Mike was more difficult to connect with since he stayed towards the back and tried to hide beneath the broad brim of his borrowed hat.

“What’s the matter, Butch?” asked Sundance with mocking concern. “You look as nervous as a tick.”

“Ah, this Texan I’m draggin’ around is starting tah wear on me,” he said as he jerked the reins of Billy’s horse.

“What yah doin’?” Billy protested groggily. He was beginning to grasp what was going on around him.

Butch pushed his horse between Riley and Ticks to hear the conversation with the teamster. He did not like what he heard. The current plan to capture Sean in Buffalo had merit. There would be monumental confusion in town with the approaching invasion. The group would all tend to break up in the crowd and at some point young Sean Daugherty would be left alone. The suggested move south without entering Buffalo would put an end to that idea.

“We don’t know this Snyder is south of here,” Butch protested. “I say we keep to the road and go on into Buffalo.”

“Damn it! I knows what I’m talkin’ about,” yelled the teamster. “Mr. Snyder left on this road an hour before us ah goin’ south. We see’d him with our own eyes, didn’t we boys.” The six men in the wagon grunted to the affirmative.

Butch had an urge to hit the opinionated, loudmouthed teamster over the head with his gun butt. It seemed like there was always a guy like this around to piss on your fire. It was their mission in life. Butch didn’t need anyone making things any more complicated than they already were. He looked at the group milling around the wagon. The pursuing posse had merged with the unwitting pursued leaving Butch with more branding irons in the fire than he could handle. At these close quarters, Sean may identify Mike as a Chicago cop at any moment, in which case Red and his boys would start pulling iron, and a major shootout would occur. The Sundance Kid had already figured out that Mike was not his old outlaw mentor Mike Cassidy, so he might decide to take a shot at Mike too. If this happened, Butch and Elzy would have to shoot him as well as all the Red Alvins’ misfits. And how would the six armed men in the wagon view this sudden civil war? On top of all this, he was dragging along a dazed but potentially dangerous regulator. The gun he had found by the Texan had the trigger guard cut away for a quick draw. Whoever he was hauling around, he fancied himself a gunman.

“I got a prisoner to give you fellas,” said Butch, hoping to eliminate one burden. He jerked the reins of Billy’s horse to pull him into view of the men in the wagon. “This here jasper’s one of the regulators. We found him knocked out and layin’ on the prairie. We’re turnin’ him over to you.”

“Well, we don’t want the sonavabitch,” said the scruffy teamster emphatically. “Why didn’t you just shoot him where you found him. Now he’s a problem.”

“Now there’s a sensible man, Butch,” chimed in Sundance. “Isn’t that what I wanted to do with him?”

“You boys had better take him south to the command headquarters’ at the Covington place,” said a more reasonable man in the wagon. “Mr. Snyder will surely want to interrogate him.”

“Then you take him,” shouted Butch.

“Hell no,” said the teamster. “We ain’t playin’ nursemaid to no damn Texas sidewinder.”

Butch searched through his assemblage of disparaging loyalties until his eyes fell upon his only logical choice. They had invited themselves along looking for a little excitement. Now it was time for them to pay their dues.

“Jack, I need to talk to you and Luke,” said Butch spurring his horse in beside them.

“We didn’t join up to be nursemaids either,” said Jack, anticipating the request.

“Okay, I’ll just keep draggin’ him around,” said Butch. “You go ride up there and tell the Sundance Kid we’re really a posse and we’re here to arrest somebody. Now be careful how you spring the news because he’s known to be real temperamental, so you want to say it in just the right way. If you say it the wrong way, or even if you say it the right way, and he takes it the wrong way, he’s liable tah kill you.”

“Heck, Jack don’t worry none about that,” said Luke defensively. “Why he’s the best shot in Fremont County. He won the pistol shootin’at the fair two years in a row.”

“Well, this ain’t a county fair and the Sundance Kid can put a bullet in you before you get either one of those fancy ivory handled Colts out of their holsters.”

“The hell he can,” Jack protested.

“He can shoot you while your blinking,” declared Butch. “I saw him do it once. He was called out by this fella for cheatin’ at cards. They was staring each other down waiting tah see who’d make the first move. The fella blinked first and Harry shot him before his eyes opened. The guy’s gun never even got out of the holster.”

“Damn,”exclaimed Luke, “he’s as quick as a snake.”

“Quicker,” Butch assured him.

“Okay,” said Jack reluctantly. “I guess we can play wet nurse to that worthless piece of cowshit for awhile.”