Ranch War

“Do you mean that The Outfit have been paid to scare Miss Calamity so that she would sell the ranch without wanting to visit it?” asked Talbot.

“Either that, or to steal the papers so that she couldn’t prove her identity,” Freddie agreed. “The answer is in Hollick City, unless you manage to catch the two men and make them talk, Kail.”

“I’ll do my damnedest on that,” the marshal promised.

“And, unless you want for me to stick around, I’m headed for Hollick City just’s soon’s I can get me a good hoss,” Calamity announced. “I don’t take to fellers spoiling my sleep and whomping me across the jaw. So I’m headed up there to see why they’ve done it.”

“You’ve got company, Calam gal, happen you want it,” the Kid told her, coming to his feet. “Dusty told me to go back down to the herd, but he’ll not mind if I don’t when he hears why.”

“Just hold on for a moment, you hotheads!” Freddie snapped as Calamity stood up. “You can have the pick of my stable, Calamity, and a pack-horse. But only if you show some sense. Lon, attend to your business with Charles. Kail, I dare say you’ve inquiries to make before you’ll let Calamity leave. So I suggest that we break up this meeting and attend to our affairs.”

Knowing that Freddie made real good sense, the others went along with her suggestions. Leaving the Kid with the lawyer, Calamity accompanied Freddie to the stable. Beauregard headed for his office to start his investigation.

Going to the telegraph office, after learning that the search for the two men had not yet produced any result, Beauregard was told that there had only been a couple of messages received from Topeka the previous day. One was from Grosvenor to the Railroad House Hotel, requesting that a room be reserved for Miss Martha Jane Canary. The other was to a general store, telling its owner that some supplies he had ordered were on their way. At any other time Beauregard might have ignored the second message. Remembering Freddie’s comments about innocuous-appearing information, he decided to keep his eye on the store-keeper.

Leaving the telegraph office, the marshal almost walked into Calamity and the Kid. Freddie had insisted that they notify their respective employers of their intentions and they were on their way to do it. While telling them of his findings, Beauregard saw one of his deputies approaching.

“They got away, Kail,” the man said miserably. “Feller allows he saw them riding out of town about half an hour after the shooting. They was headed north on the stage-trail.”

“Which leads to Hollick City!” Beauregard growled. “They’re taking your papers to whoever hired ’em up there, I’d say, Calamity.”

“And me,” the girl agreed. “Damn it! We can’t get started afore noon to take after ’em.”

“Was they riding relay, friend?” the Kid asked the deputy.

“Not according to the feller. Just the one hoss apiece.”

“Then we’ll be traveling a whole heap faster’n they can, gal,” the Kid declared. “Given just a smidgin of good Texas luck, we ought to catch up with ’em on the trail. Happen we do, we’ll ask ’em real polite to give back that letter.”

Chapter 6 THEY KNOW WE’RE AFTER ’EM

“HOW COME I HAVE TO LEAD THE PACK-HOSS?” Calamity Jane inquired belligerently as she and the Kid rode north along the stagecoach trail.

“’Cause you’re a woman,” her companion replied. “And us Pehnane fellers allus keep our women in their place.”

“I ain’t no blasted Pehnane, no matter what you might be!” the girl protested. “So we’ll take us turns in leading this fool critter.”

Adding the pack-horse to the two reserve mounts she had borrowed from Freddie did not cause Calamity any inconvenience. In fact she had led it ever since they had mounted their relays in Mulrooney at noon and the sun was dipping toward the western horizon. However, she felt that she ought to have certain matters straightened out. From what Mark Counter had told her, the Kid rated women above a food-dog but lower than a pack-mule on the scale of importance. So the girl had decided that it was up to her to raise the standing of females in her companion’s eyes and make him change such fool notions.

Before leaving the town, Beauregard had told them of his latest findings; which had not been much. Smith had been seen around the depot the previous night and on two occasions in the company of two men answering the descriptions of Calamity’s assailants. On being questioned, the day clerk at the Railroad House Hotel had insisted that he knew nothing of Smith’s presence across the street when Calamity had left to visit Talbot. Beauregard believed that the man was lying. Beyond that, there was nothing definite. The whole affair had still struck the marshal as being the work of The Outfit. His view was strengthened by the speed with which the pair had left the town. After losing one man, the organizer for The Outfit would speed the others involved on their way without any delay as they had completed their work.

Thinking of Beauregard’s comments, the Kid saw what might be a solution to Calamity’s demands.

“Way I see it,” he remarked, “with them two pelados on the trail ahead and all, you should lead the pack-hoss and leave me free should it come to shooting.”

“If it comes to shooting, I don’t want tying down to no blasted pack-hoss neither,” Calamity countered. “So, comes morning, we take turns in leading it.”

“Banged paleface!” grunted the Kid.

“Pehnane varmint,” the girl answered.

Watching Calamity, the Kid was satisfied with what he saw. He knew the girl to be highly competent at handling a six-horse wagon, but riding relay was a different proposition. From all he had seen so far, she possessed the necessary riding skill to stand up to the fast pace they must use if they hoped to catch the two men. There was another matter for the Kid to consider.

“Does Mark mean anything to you, Calam?” he asked.

“I wish he did,” she sighed. “There’s only one gal in his life and her name’s Belle Starr, not Calamity Jane.”*

Topping a rim at that moment, they came into sight of Wells Fargo’s North Solomon River way station. That prevented Calamity from taking the matter any further, although she guessed what was on the Kid’s mind.

The way station would have been a day’s journey by stagecoach, but the vehicle would have left Mulrooney shortly after sunup and traveled more slowly than Calamity’s and the Kid’s relays. Halting his horses, the Kid studied the deserted aspect of the main building, big barn and corrals.

“They could be laying for us in the house or the barn,” Calamity remarked, having duplicated his scrutiny. “Best give me the reins of your relay, Lon. Only don’t count on me leading them all the way to Hollick City.”

“Us Pehnane don’t trust the women-folk to lead our riding-hosses most times,” he replied, handing her the reins of the three horses.

With Calamity spluttering a blanket condemnation of the Pehnane, Texans and himself, the Kid slid his rifle from its saddle-boot. Then he started the magnificent seventeen-hand white stallion moving. Calamity let him draw slightly ahead before following with the other horses.

“You bunch cause me fuss, comes shooting,” the girl warned the animals, “and I’ll peel you to doll-rags with my whip, see if I don’t.”

While approaching the long, one-story, stone building that acted as telegraph office, hotel, saloon and general store, Calamity and the Kid kept constantly alert. They had come to within thirty yards of the building before they saw anything to alarm them. Then the door started to open and they observed the twin barrels of a shotgun coming into view.

Instantly the Kid halted his stallion, the rifle lifting slightly from its place across his upper thighs. Behind him, Calamity brought the other horses to a stop. Her right hand moved toward the butt of the Navy Colt, but she knew that her main task in the event of shooting would be to control the animals.

The shotgun’s barrels retreated into the building and after a moment a man walked out. While tall, his lean build, white hair, bib-overalls and moccasins proved that he was not one of Calamity’s attackers. Coming to a halt on the edge of the porch, he thumb-hooked his hands into his belt. It appeared that he trusted the new arrivals, for