Reaching the rear end of the alley, hepaused to take his bearings. The L.P. Corral, he recalled, waslocated on this same side of Main Street. He could reach it quicklyenough, just by hustling along the back laneway. He did that and,within a few minutes, was entering Little Lew’s barn by its reardoor.
The old-timer greeted himcordially.
“Howdy, Texas. That was sure some whuppin’you give Sunday’s bunch. I seen the whole thing.”
“Glad you enjoyed it, Little Lew,” grinnedStretch. He checked the barn to ensure they had it to themselves.Then, “Got a favor to ask you.”
“Well,” shrugged Little Lew, “all yougotta do is ask.”
“Can you keep a secret?” Stretchdemanded.
“Why?” challenged Little Lew. “You rob abank or somethin’?”
“Nope,” grunted Stretch. “But I just nowstole a couple cavalry outfits from the gents’ bathhouse.”
“That kinda secret I can keep,” the oldman calmly asserted. “Anything I can do to help ...”
“Let me have an empty sack,” beggedStretch.
Little Lew supplied with an emptyfeed-sack, into which he swiftly stowed the purloined uniforms. Bynow, the old-timer was chuckling.
“Dunno what you’re up to—you and Larry.Don’t wanta know. But it sure looks comical to me.”
“I have to stash this stuff,” Stretch toldhim. “You got any objection if I hide it in your hay-loft? Wouldn’tbe any use me totin’ it back to the hotel. It’ll only be tilltomorrer mornin’, when me and Larry come to fetch our horses.”
“Okay by me, son,” grinnedLittle Lew. “Climb up that ladder and hide it under thehay.”
“I’m sure obliged to you,” said Stretch.
A few moments later, the taller Texan wasrejoining his partner. He encountered Larry on the boardwalk closeby the Gold Buckle.
“The beer cold?” Larry enquired. “I couldsure use ...”
“We can drink later,” frownedStretch. “Walk along with me a ways runt. There’s somethin’ yououghta see—somethin’ we just wouldn’t want to miss.”
Larry was hefting the rigged repeater;Shipway had obligingly wrapped it with a strip of tattered canvas.Tucking it under an arm, Larry accompanied his partner along theboardwalk to a position directly opposite the Hunstrom bathhouse.There was a bench. They perched on it, rolled and lit cigarettes,while Stretch quietly described his recent actions. During thetelling of it, the rain ceased and rays of late afternoon sun beganstriking the mud of Main Street, causing a steaming mugginess. Theyshucked out of their slickers, rolled them and traded expectantglances. Larry was chuckling. Stretch grinned sheepishly, andasked,
“It was a smart notion, huh?”
“I got to hand it to you, big feller …”Larry guffawed and slapped his thigh. “You don’t often get a smartnotion—but—when you do ...!”
“It seemed like,” shrugged Stretch, “an easyway of gettin’ us a couple soldier suits. And—uh—stashin’ ’em atLittle Lew’s, that wasn’t such a bad idea either, huh, runt? What Imean, they’re just bound to suspicion us. You know how them cavalryhombres are. They got mean minds.”
“They sure don’t trust Texans,” grinnedLarry. “Any time between now and sundown, there’ll be soldiersstampedin’ into the Lincoln House—lookin’ for us ...”
“And lookin’,” guessed Stretch, “for themsoldier suits.”
“Bet your Texas boots,” nodded Larry. Hefrowned across to the bathhouse entrance. “How long d’you figurethey’ve been in there?”
“Long enough,” opined Stretch.
They waited, placed, patient, completelyat their ease. Exactly three and one half minutes later ithappened. There were sounds of uproar from within Hunstrom’sestablishment, loud, strident curses, harsh oaths, the bull-likevoice of Sergeant Boyle, so poignantly familiar. The sergeant madea spectacular entrance on the Main Street scene, with the corporalin close attendance. Their fury had clouded their thinking. Theywere acting rashly, bounding out onto the boardwalk garbed innaught but their longjohns, and this spectacle was too much for afemale passer-by, who promptly screamed and swooned.
Inquisitive towners quickly materialized.Boyle raged and ranted, while the locals laughed derisively. A fewyelled jeering comments and, inevitably, the uproar reached thealert ears of Sheriff Adam Upshaw.
When the lawman arrived, Boyle and thecorporal unleashed a torrent of complaint. But Upshaw wasn’tlistening. As far as he was concerned, indecent exposure was beingcommitted on the busiest street of his town, so he interruptedBoyle’s tirade with a stern command.
“Turn around and head for my office—muypronto, savvy? Sooner I get you jaspers off the street, the betterfor all concerned. Move!”
With interest, the drifters followed theprogress of Upshaw and his prisoners all the way to the law office.Then, unhurriedly, they rose from the bench. It took them less thana quarter-hour to satisfy their thirsts and return to their room atthe Lincoln House. By then, Boyle and the corporal were on theirway back to Camp Stone, with blankets wrapped about them and agrim-visaged Upshaw acting as escort.
They arrived at the garrison camp around4.50 p.m., at which time Major Spencer Vaughan was concluding anexhaustive medical examination of his most illustrious patient—thedisgruntled and irascible Colonel Mortimer Stone.
Six
The Natural Suspects
The medical officer delivered his warning inblunt language.
“Without the patient’s cooperation, highblood pressure is hard to beat. I must emphasize, Colonel, that youhave to help yourself, learn to control your temper, practicepatience at all times ...”
“Patience be damned!” snorted Stone.
“A trigger-temper,” shrugged Vaughan, “andhigh blood pressure—that’s a bad combination, Colonel.”
“I’ll have you know,” retorted Stone, “thatI am the most even-tempered commanding officer the Ninth has everknown.”
He has to be joking,Vaughan thought tohimself. No.Damn the old firebrand, he really means it! Aloud, he said, “The onlyalternative would be a sedative, something to keep you in a relaxedcondition.”
“Pills and potions,” sneered thecolonel.
“In your case,” said Vaughan, “I wouldn’trecommend sedation. Constant use of the medication would induce astate—uh—similar to that caused by alcoholism.”
“Well,” said Stone, as tartly as he knewhow, “we could hardly have that, could we, my dear Major?”
“Hardly,” frowned Vaughan. “So I can onlyadvise that you make the attempt to ...”
“To be calm at all times,” jeered Stone. “Tocontrol my temper. Come, Major. No need to mince words.”
“There’s nothing more I can say,” mutteredVaughan, as he replaced his instruments in his bag. “The rest,Colonel, is up to you.”
“How can I remain in a state of goodhumor,
