Young Ole Devil (12 page)

Guessing that their
victim
—who,
according to Juglares, would be travelling alone—was almost certain
to make use of the trail between San Antonio and Gonzales, the
party had sought for him along it Finding the hamlet deserted
shortly after the rain had started to fall, they had forced an
entry into the
cantina.
Discussing the matter, Verde and Halford had concluded that
the man they were seeking would also use it for shelter when he
arrived.

The gamble had only partially paid off!

In some way, the Texian had
eluded Al and Soapy who had left in the hope of locating him.
However, he was strolling into the
cantina
and clearly had no suspicion of the fate
that awaited him.

For all that, Verde realized
things could go wrong. Finding himself confronted by four men, all
of whom were fingering weapons, the newcomer had halted just inside
the door. If any of the party attempted to raise a pistol or rifle,
he would leap back out of the building. Before
the
swiftest of them could
reach the
sidewalk, he would
be
mounted
and riding away.

It was a moment for rapid thought!

Having done so, Verde put his scheme into
operation and silently prayed that his companions would guess what
he was doing and respond correctly.

‘
Hey,
amigos,
it’s all right,’ Verde announced in a hearty tone, taking
his hand away from the pistol. ‘I know this man. Ifs
Captain
Hardin
of
the Texas Light Cavalry.
Saludos
captain. Ifs good to see you.’

With that, the
vaquero
started to walk
forward. His manner was friendly and he held out his right hand, In
a sheath strapped to the inside of his left forearm, hidden from
sight by his jacket’s sleeve yet ready to slip into his grasp when
necessary, was a needle-pointed, razor-sharp knife. He was an
expert at producing and using it unexpectedly.

Ole Devil Hardin watched
the
vaquero
coming towards him,
but also devoted some of his attention to the three white men. That
they should have reached for their weapons on his arrival neither
surprised nor alarmed him. It was a simple precaution that anybody
would be expected to take in such troubled times. However, he had
noticed how the lanky former lookout had thrown a startled glance
at the biggest of die party on hearing his name. What was more,
despite the
vaquero’s
apparent friendliness and his announcement of Ole Devil’s
identity, the trio were showing little sign of relaxing.

Watching Verde advancing, Halford suddenly
realized what the welcome meant. He turned his head just in time to
see Mucker, who was not the most intelligent of the party, starting
to lift his flintlock. Taking his own right hand from his rifle,
Halford gave the lanky man a swift jab on the arm. On Mucker
swinging a puzzled gaze at him, he scowled prohibitively and shook
his head. Looking back at Verde and the Texian, Halford replaced
his hand on his own rifle. He did not notice that, although
refraining from lifting the weapon, Mucker did not move his hand
away.

At first, Ole Devil had decided
that the white men might have an antipathy towards officers.
However, having observed the by-play between Halford and Mucker, he
felt decidedly uneasy. His instincts suggested that everything
might not be so amiable as the
vaquero
was making out.

Showing nothing of his
suspicions, Ole Devil stepped forward. He did not recognize
the
vaquero,
but knew that meant little. Without growing boastful about
it, he knew that he had already carved something of a name for
himself since arriving in Texas. What was more, his appearance was
so distinctive—particularly since, as
a
joke
more than
anything, he had grown the moustache and beard to
augment his Mephistophelian fea
tures—that he attracted attention and
remembrance. Possibly the
vaquero
had seen him somewhere and was wanting to impress
the three white men by a pretence of a much closer acquaintanceship
than was the case.

Despite the conclusions which
he had drawn, Ole Devil could not throw off his sense of
perturbation. Something, he felt sure, was wrong. The burly
hard-case had stopped the former lookout from lifting the
flintlock, but had returned his own hand to his rifle. The third
man
’s hands
were hidden by the counter and might already be grasping a
firearm.

However, the
vaquero
continued to draw
nearer. He was still smiling, with his right hand extended to be
shaken and the left hanging by his side. Neither were anywhere near
the heavy pistol which was thrust, butt forward, through the silk
sash around his waist and he had no other visible
weapon.

Although Ole Devil was not yet
within reaching distance of the
vaquero,
he too thrust out his right hand. He
realized that he might be doing the occupants of the bar-room an
injustice by mistrusting them. They would find such an attitude
offensive if they were innocent of evil intent. Being aware of the
kind of pride and temper possessed by many Texians, he was alert to
the possibility that they might try to avenge what they would
regard as an insult to their integrity and he wanted to avoid
trouble of that nature. Also, to continue delaying a response to
the
vaquero’s
friendly greeting was almost sure to arouse their
suspicions if his own feelings should be justified.

‘
Saludos, senor,’
the young Texian said, but he did not relax his
vigilance and was ready to react with all the speed if the
vaquero
should try to draw
a weapon. He took the opportunity to study the men at the bar,
continuing, ‘Howdy, gents.’

Elated by the success of his
scheme to lull the newcomer into a sense of false security, Verde
gave the special twist to his left arm that liberated the knife
from its sheath. Without needing to
look,
he caught the hilt as it slid into his
hand, which was turned with the knuckles forward to prevent his
potential victim from seeing what was happening. Easing back the
hand so that it was concealed by his thigh, he turned the weapon
deftly until its blade was extended ahead of his thumb and
forefinger.

All was now ready for an
upwards thrust into the unsuspecting Texian
’s stomach!

The blow would be delivered as
soon as they were shaking
hands, so that the victim could not step back and
avoid it. At the bar, Mucker started to grin broadly as he watched
the knife appear in Verde’s left hand. He darted a delighted glance
at Halford, but it was not returned. Equally aware of what was
going on, the big man began to lift his rifle with the right hand
so he would be ready in case something went wrong and Verde failed
to do his work.

One more stride would bring Ole
Devil and the
vaquero
close enough to shake hands. While the other’s features
still retained their friendly aspect, the Texian noticed that his
left hand had, apparently by accident, swung until it was out of
sight. Glancing past the
vaquero,
Ole Devil observed the expression of triumph on
Mucker’s face, and the movements of Half ord. He sensed that the
situation might be far less innocuous than appeared on the
surface.

Suddenly the young Texian felt as if a cold
hand had pressed against his spine.

The
vaquero
was armed with a pistol, but did not
appear to be wearing a knife!

Ole Devil realized that not
every member of the Spanish or Mexican races had a natural affinity
towards knife-fighting, but it was extremely rare to come across
a
vaquero
who did not go armed with one. If it was not sheathed on
his belt, or thrust through his sash, it might be suspended beneath
his collar at the back of the neck, carried in the top of his boot,
or hidden in some other way.

There was one place of concealment, Ole
Devil remembered having been told, which assassins in many lands
made use of.

Reaching to take hold of the
young Texian
’s hand and confident that he suspected nothing, Verde
tensed slightly and was ready to bring out the knife. Before he
could do so, he felt his intended victim’s fingers make
contact

But not with his hand!

Hoping that his motives would
be understood and his apologies accepted if he was mistaken, Ole
Devil acted with deadly speed. Instead of allowing his hand to be
trapped, he changed its direction slightly. Without giving any
indication of his intentions, he grasped the
vaquero’s
right wrist tightly. As he did
so, he took a step to the right and rear and swung so that, for a
moment, he was standing at an angle away from Verde. Before
the
vaquero
could resist, he jerked on die wrist with all his strength
and pivoted himself around on his right foot. Bending his other
leg, he swung it in a circular motion which propelled the knee into
the advancing man’s stomach.

Taken unawares, Verde could not prevent
himself from being dragged forward. The knee met his midsection
with considerable force. With his wrist released at the moment of
impact, he was driven backwards. His knife slipped from his fingers
and clattered to the floor as, partially winded and starting to
fold over, he twisted away from his assailant It was an almost
instinctive action, designed to shield him from any further attack
by the Texian, and he stumbled against the table at which he and
his companions had been seated.

‘
Get
the bastard!’ Halford roared, snatching up his rifle in the
expectation that their potential victim would turn and
run.

Seeing Verde
’s assassination attempt fail,
Stiple started to respond without needing the burly man’s advice.
What was more, he was in a better position to do something than
either of his companions. Knowing that he could do so without being
seen by the Texian, he had already drawn the pistol from his belt.
Jerking back the hammer, he started to raise the weapon above the
level of the bar which had previously hidden his
movements.

Although startled by the unexpected turn of
events, Mucker made a grab for his long rifle.

Instead of justifying the burly
man
’s
expectation and running, Ole Devil set his weight on his
spread-apart feet. Bending his knees slightly and inclining his
torso forward a little, he made preparations for fighting
back.

While prudence might have
dictated that the young Texian should adopt the course Halford was
anticipating, he had no intention of running. Hot-tempered
arrogance had nothing to do with the decision. The fact that
the
vaquero
had identified him in such a manner aroused disturbing
possibilities which he considered must be investigated. Nor was his
decision to seek a solution made rashly. He had devoted a lot of
time, thought and effort to developing the means of defending
himself in such a situation.

Even before coming to Texas,
Ole Devil had realized that there were several flaws in the
training which he had received in handling a pistol. His
instructors had regarded a handgun as a
dueling implement, with rules and
conventions limiting how it could be used, rather than as a readily
accessible defensive weapon. With the latter purpose in mind, he
had worked out a technique that was very effective.

Turning palm outwards, Ole
Devil
’s
right hand flashed to and closed around the butt of the Manton
pistol. To slide the weapon free from the belt’s retaining loop, he
used a system which would eventually be developed into the ‘high
cavalry-twist’ draw.
^xv
However, unlike the gun fighters who
perfected the method in the mid-1860s and later, his sequence of
firing could not be carried out with just one hand. Instead because
of the shape and position of the hammer, he had to use the heel of
his left palm almost as if he was ‘fanning’ the hammer of a single
action revolver.

The unorthodox method of
handling the pistol did not end with the way it had been twisted
free from the belt and turned towards its target Instead
o
f adopting
the accepted stance—sideways, with the right hand fully extended at
shoulder height, left arm bent and hand on the hip—of the formal
duelist, he stood squarely to his point of aim. Crouching slightly,
he elevated the weapon to eye-level and, after cocking the hammer,
his left hand went around to cup under the support the right. While
doing so, he was selecting the man who was posing the most
immediate threat to his life.

Not for another thirty or so
years would the idea of fast drawing and shooting become widely
known, or
practiced. So Ole Devil’s actions came as a surprise and a
shock to the three men at the bar, particularly to Stiple. With his
pistol lifting to the firing position, he found himself looking
into the unwavering muzzle of the Texian’s weapon. The hole of the
barrel seemed to be much larger than its usual .54 of an inch
caliber.