“Just what in tarnation,” he demanded toknow, “brings you galoots to Bosworth?”
“We’re mindin’ our own business, Sarge,”grinned Stretch, “and it’s too bad you can’t say likewise.”
“Wherever you fiddle-foots show up,” scowledBoyle, “there has to be trouble.”
“Pay no mind to what he says, MissMartha,” drawled Stretch. “Ol’ Larry and me are just a coupledo-right Texas boys that ain’t never lookin’ fortrouble.”
“Hah!” jeered Boyle.
“My pa used to read me about you,” grinnedJoey, “out of the newspaper.”
“There ought to be a law,” growled Boyle,“against hairless boys makin’ heroes out of trigger-happysaddletramps.” He rose in his stirrups to roar at his colleagues.“Get a move on!”
“We’re all through, Sarge,” called atrooper, as he began climbing down.
“All right, all right!” Boyle gesturedimpatiently. “Mount up and let’s get outa here. We still gottacheck Area B.” The troopers hustled to obey. Then, as he wheeledhis mount, he flashed a last venomous glare at the Texans andimparted a warning. “Keep right on ridin’, saddletramps. Ride clearouta Bosworth County. This territory’s gonna be mighty unhealthyfor you, when the Colonel gets my report.”
“Say ‘howdy’ to old Vinegar-Face for us,”grinned Larry.
“Tell him I said ‘Keep your pants on,Morty’,” chuckled Stretch.
Boyle’s complexion changed from red topurple, as he dug in his spurs. That last barb had stung. Tremblingwith fury, he led his troop away in a northerly direction. Marthashrugged unconcernedly and, after assuring herself that her cargowas intact, called an invitation to the Texans.
“If you’re headed for town, maybe you’d liketo travel along with us.”
“Be glad to,” nodded Larry. “I’ll hitch myhorse to the tailgate and spell you at drivin’. How aboutthat?”
“This is a hefty team,” warned Martha.
“Miss Martha,” said Stretch, “if you had awhole dozen buffaloes harnessed to that rig, ol’ Larry could drive’em anyplace you want.”
He took the sorrel’s rein, as Larry easedhis boots from the stirrups and swung up beside Martha and the boy.When the big wagon resumed its journey, Larry was driving, withStretch riding level with the seat and Larry’s mount tethered tothe tailgate. The girl was willing to be friendly; the boy evenmore so. They answered Larry’s questions without hesitation, and hewas moved to reflect that the ambush had touched many people.
As well as the six soldiers, two toil-worncivilians had been butchered. And the deaths of Sam Lowell and MaceTaft had left their respective families in dire straits. Thefreight outfit, it seemed, was struggling to survive the untimelydemise of its partners. There were debts unpaid, two widows to besupported, along with several small children. The oldest Lowell andTaft children had bravely joined forces to keep the line inoperation, a mammoth task for a girl not yet twenty-one, and a boyas raw, as untried as Joey.
“We’ll make out,” Martha stolidly asserted.“The railroad and the stage line gets all the big business, butsome of our old customers are still loyal.”
“There’ll always be freight needs haulin’,”grinned the optimistic Joey. “Like Martha says, we’ll makeout.”
“But I’d sure admire to get us a few realfat contracts,” she sighed. “Big loads, you know? That’s the onlyway we’re gonna pay off Pa’s debts.”
“What you need,” Larry jokingly informedher, “is a rich husband.”
She took that seriously.
“That’s a fact,” she nodded. “But he’d haveto be more than rich.”
“Martha,” announced Joey, “is plumbparticular.”
“Bosworth men,” she frowned, “are a bunchof no accounts that eat with a knife and chew tobacco. What’s more,they don’t bathe regular.” She shook her head sadly. “There oughtto be something better, for a girl like me.”
“There surely oughta,” Stretch solemnlyagreed.
He built two cigarettes, lit them and passedone to Larry. The boy was eager to question them on the subject sodear to the hearts of frontier juveniles—the hectic career, thebattles fought and won, the hair’s breadth escapes, the wholestormy legend of the Lone Star Hellions. But Larry was in no moodfor bragging. Martha and Joey were local residents. From them, hecould and did win an accurate picture of the current situation. Shetalked at some length on the aftermath of the ambush, the promptbut futile investigation ordered by Colonel Stone and the locallaw.
“Sheriff Upshaw’s a good lawman,” sheassured the Texan.
“Deputy Creel, too,” Joey conceded.
“But you’ll likely peg them for a couple ofscared jackrabbits, first time you run into them.” And Marthasmiled as she said it. “They’ve handled their fair share ofrustlers and bandits, but ...”
“But?” prodded Larry.
“But,” said Martha, “I once heard thesheriff say he’d as lief tangle barehanded with a mountainlion—than lock horns with you or Stretch.”
“It sounds like,” opined Stretch, with asmug grin, “the local law has heard of us.”
“It’s your reputation he’s afeared of, Ireckon,” grinned Joey.
“Pay no mind to our reputation,” Larryadvised. “You can’t always believe what you read in thepapers.”
In sight of the big town’s easternoutskirts, he queried his young admirers on the subject ofaccommodation. Martha recommended the L. P. Corral and the LincolnHouse.
“Little Lew Piggot,” she assured them, “runsthe best livery stable in town, and the Lincoln House ought to bejust right for you. Good chow, and not too expensive.”
Four
The Law and the Lawless
Little Lew Piggott had earnedhis nickname the easy way. He was a shriveled wisp of masculinity nudgingseventy, standing exactly five feet two inches in his scuffedboots, with mild brown eyes blinking out of a face as withered andbrowned as an old apple. He was amiable, observant and shrewd, anddelighted to meet the Texas Nomads.
“But I gotta say this, boys,” he remarked.“I gotta say I’m surprised.”
“About what, Lew?” prodded Larry.
“Well,” grinned the old-timer, “accordin’to ever’thing I’ve heard, you shoulda rid inta Bosworth like acoupla tornadoes—with mebbe a half-dozen dead owlhoots hogtied totheir hosses—and your six-shooters still smokin’. I declare I never’spected you’d be so all-fired peaceable. You look like a coupladriftin’ cowpokes that wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“That’s us, Little Lew,” grinned Stretch. “Ialways did say us Texans is plumb harmless—only nobody’ll everbelieve me.”
While Stretch off-saddled the horses andled them into vacant stalls, Larry lounged in the barn entrance,studied Bosworth’s broad main street and swapped small
