Read A Horse Called Mogollon (Floating Outfit Book 3) Online

Authors: J.T. Edson

Tags: #cowboys, #gunfighters, #the wild west, #western pulp fiction, #jt edson, #the floating outfit, #ysabel kid, #dusty fog, #mark counter, #us frontier

A Horse Called Mogollon (Floating Outfit Book 3) (19 page)

Down in the Rio Hondo, a short
Oriental man worked as Ole Devil Hardin
’s personal servant. Tommy Okasi
claimed to be Nipponese and possessed devastatingly effective
methods of barehanded fighting. To Dusty, smallest male member of
the Hardin, Fog and Blaze clan, the little servant had passed on a
thorough working knowledge of
ju-jitsu
and
karate.
Those techniques, hardly known at that time
outside the Japanese Empire, had helped Dusty to earn his
reputation for defeating larger, heavier and stronger
men.

Allowing
Coxin to reach him ‘undetected’ and
take hold, Dusty based his line of action on what the other planned
to do. Blending his movements with the hard case’s lifting pull,
Dusty twisted his hips and torso to the left. At the same moment he
swung his free hand up and around so that it passed above his
assailant’s arms. Extending his right arm, Dusty kept his hand open
and fingers outstretched but together. The manner in which he
struck at Coxin might have looked strange, awkward even, to
Occidental eyes, but proved to be most effective. Dusty had learned
from Tommy Okasi that the extended fingers, heel or edge of the
hand could serve just as well as the knuckles when wielded
correctly.

Although done with great
accuracy, Dusty
’s attack was not preformed at anything like his best
speed. He needed Coxin to realize at which point he was aiming his
hand. Becoming aware of the target as Dusty’s fingertips raked
across his eyes, Coxin started to draw back his face. Pain and an
instinctive desire to protect his sight caused the hard case to
tilt his torso and snap his head hurriedly to the rear.

Having brought about the
required reaction, Dusty clenched his fist and bent his right arm.
Again he did not use his knuckles. Instead, he hurled his arm so
that the point of its elbow rammed with considerable force
into
Coxin’s
solar plexus.
A startled, agonized croak burst from the hard
case as the blow landed and he opened his hands. As he struck,
Dusty had already started to swing his left shoulder away and
wrench his arm from Coxin’s grasp. Liberated, he carried his left
hand, folded into a fist, until it rested against his near
hip.

Dusty
’s response and its result had come
almost as much of a surprise to Royce as it had to its recipient.
Clenching his hard fists, Royce advanced at a better pace in the
hope of taking Dusty while the small Texan was still occupied by
Coxin. Royce’s hope met with disillusionment.

Alert for danger from the second
man, Dusty threw a quick glance across his left shoulder. Quick,
maybe, but telling him all he needed to know. Grasping and
clutching at his body where the elbow had impacted, Coxin staggered
backwards sufficiently for Dusty to have room to
maneuver. Figuring
to take advantage of his extra reach, Royce hurled a punch while
still at arm’s length from the small Texan. Dusty bent his right
knee slightly and took his full weight on that foot. Drawing his
other leg up, he inclined his body away from Royce and hurled his
left foot to the rear. Carried on by the impetus of his blow, Royce
took the high heel of Dusty’s boot full in the pit of the
stomach.

From delivering the snap kick,
which halted Royce in his tracks, Dusty dropped his left foot to
the floor and used it as a pivot to turn on his second attacker.
Royce had not even had time to lower his right arm from its
abortive punch. Stabbing out his left hand, Dusty shoved
Royce
’s fist
aside. Using his pivot to add force to it, Dusty whipped his right
arm around and delivered an open-palm slap to the side of Royce’s
head. The power behind the blow spun the burly hard case towards
the center of the room.

Thrusting himself away from the
confines of the bar, Dusty moved towards the door and halted facing
the hard-cases. He threw a look at the gambler, finding the other
sat staring as if unwilling to believe the evidence of his eyes.
Then Dusty gave his attention to
Coxin and Royce.


All
right,’ the small Texan growled. ‘I don’t want trouble, but it’s
here if you figure on making it.’

Rubbing his stomach and left
cheek, Royce edged across the floor to halt at
Coxin’s side. Gold, angry,
savage eyes glared at Dusty. Then the hard-cases became aware that
a change was apparently taking place in the appearance of their
would-be victim. No longer did he seem small or insignificant.
Somehow he gave the impression of possessing the size and heft to
tower over them both.

Shocked by the amazing metamorphosis,
the hard-cases exchanged startled and nervous glances.


Take
him!’ Coxin yelped and grabbed for the butt of his holstered
revolver.

Hearing his
companion
’s
words, Royce also commenced his draw. The speed and determination
with which they acted left Dusty no alternative. Bullies they might
be, but either possessed sufficient skill and speed to prevent him
from dealing with them by other means than the use of his
revolvers.

Crossing so fast that the
watching Stagge could barely
follow their movements, Dusty’s fingers closed
about the
bone
handles of the matched Army Colts. The guns left leather as
if possessed by wills of their own. All in an incredibly swift
motion, the barrels turned outwards, the triggers were carried to
the rear by Dusty’s forefingers and his thumbs drew the hammers to
full cock. Then flame lashed from the muzzles and the twin
detonations merged as one single sound.

Struck in the chest while his
gun was just clearing its holster
’s lip, Coxin pitched backwards. At almost
the same instant, a .44 bullet ripped into the center of Royce’s
forehead. He twirled around once, collided with the front of the
bar and tumbled face-first to the floor.

Shocked motionless by what he
had just seen, Stagge began to push back his chair. Hearing its
legs scrape on the floor, Dusty swung the barrel of his right hand
Colt in the gambler
’s direction. With the muzzle pointing directly at the
center of his fancy vest, Stagge halted his movements.


I
don’t know how you fit in this,’ Dusty warned. ‘So just sit again
and put your hands flat on the tab—’

Snarling out his agonized,
wordless fury, Coxin supported his weight on the bar. Despite
suffering from a mortal wound, he lifted his revolver in
Dusty
’s
direction. His pain-creased eyes flickered at Stagge and his mouth
opened as if to ask for assistance in dealing with the man who had
shot him.


Look
out, cowboy!’ Stagge bellowed, swiveling his head to stare at
Coxin.

Dusty had already caught a hint
of Coxin
’s
movements from the corner of his eye. Even as Stagge began the
warning, the small Texan had whipped around and dropped his right
knee towards the floor. If Dusty had been a fraction of a second
slower in assuming the kneeling position, he would have been
killed. Coxin’s gun blasted and its bullet hissed through the air
above Dusty’s head.

By the time
Dusty
’s knee
reached the floorboards, he was ready to deal with Coxin. The
ambidextrous prowess developed as a child, to draw attention away
from his lack of inches, served him well, as it had on other
occasions. Although his right hand Colt still covered Stagge, the
left moved almost as if of its own volition. Angling upwards, the
revolver bellowed in reply to Coxin’s challenge. The bullet entered
the hard-case’s open mouth as his head twitched towards Stagge.
Plowing on, the lead burst through Coxin’s brain and sprawled him
lifeless across Royce’s body.

Half out of his chair, standing
as if turned to stone, Stagge stared at the bodies by the bar. Feet
thudded in the hall and voices were raised excitedly outside the
building as people, attracted by the sound of the shots, ran
towards it. Dragoon in hand, Colin darted into the room. Peet
followed the Scot, but skidded to a halt and allowed his
revolver
’s
barrel to sag towards the floor. All doubts as to Dusty’s identity
had left him and he stared in awe at the small Texan. Bringing up
the rear at a slower pace, the de Brioudes halted at the door and
looked between the two men.


Are
you all right, Dusty?’ Colin asked.


What
happened,
Captain Fog?’
de Brioude said, leaving his wife in the hall and
walking forward. He laid emphasis on the last two words as if
wanting to make sure that there were no doubts about who they were
dealing with.


Cap’n
Fog?’ Stagge repeated, slumping back into his chair.

The gambler
’s eyes swung to the small
Texan, then jerked in Peet’s direction and received a confirmatory
nod.


I am
sorry that we did not recognize you when we met, Captain Fog,’ de
Brioude remarked as Stagge appeared to be on the verge of making
some comment to the hunter. ‘If we had, this would not have
happened. But why should those men want to attack you?’


A man
like Cap’n Fog’s made a heap of enemies, Arnaud,’ Stagge pointed
out. ‘Could be they’re two of ’em.’


I
don’t recall having seen either of them before,’ Dusty answered.
‘Anyways, I’m obliged for the warning, mister.’


It was
all I’d time to do,’ the gambler replied.

Beatrice had been studying the
scene in the
barroom with a casual, detached interest. Hearing voices
and footsteps drawing near to the front doors, a sudden change came
over her. Leaning against the wall, she took on an attitude of
distress that contrasted vividly with her previous
behavior.

Several men and women, all
dressed in what would probably be their best clothes, appeared at
the doors. Taking the lead, a big, buxom woman entered. There was
an air of
standing no nonsense about her as she stalked towards the
barroom. Close on her heels was a short, leathery old timer. He
looked uncomfortable in his old suit and having the neck of his
shirt fastened did not appear to be a normal state of affairs. For
all that, he moved with quick, alert determination.


What
happened, ma’am?’ the old timer inquired, increasing his pace and
reaching the
Vicomtesse
ahead of the woman.


Th—the—there has—been—a shooting!’ Beatrice answered
brokenly, bosom heaving with emotion.


Land-sakes!’ the big woman intoned, showing concern as she
went to Beatrice. ‘And it happened afore you, your
ladyship?’


N—No!’
the
Vicomtesse
sniffed. ‘I was in the dining-room when it
happened.’


Best
take her back there, Annie,’ suggested the old timer and looked at
the other people in the hall. ‘You folks stay put until I’ve seed
what’s coming off.’

Although the other new arrivals
belonged to the committee which had organized the reception for the
de Brioudes and were the town
’s most influential citizens, they obeyed the
request. Hovering in the main entrance, they talked amongst
themselves in quiet, heated tones.


Come
on, your ladyship,’ Mrs. Annie Logan, owner of the hotel, said and
led Beatrice back to the dining room. ‘Lord’s a-mercy! That this
should’ve happened today of all days. Not that it often happens.
Fact being, we’ve never had a shooting here afore.’

Still explaining that Kerrville
was normally a most peaceful town, Mrs. Logan disappeared from the
hall with Beatrice. Watching them go, the other citizens muttered
threats against whoever had done the shooting if it should drive
away the visitors. After a glance at the speakers, the old man went
into the
barroom. Keen eyes darted around, taking in the whole
scene, then came to rest on Dusty.


Cap’n
Fog, ain’t it?’


It
is,’ Dusty confirmed.


Thought so,’
the old timer grunted. ‘I mind seeing you in Fort Sawyer when
you,
Cabrito
and you, warn’t it, young feller?’ His gaze returned
briefly to Colin but he continued without waiting for an answer,
‘went after the Flores boys. Must admit I was a mite surprised when
I heard who you was, Cap’n, you being— Name’s Ned Franklin, I’m
town constable.
xvii
What come off here?’


Those
two fellers picked a fuss with me as soon as I walked in,’ Dusty
explained, showing no annoyance at the implication behind
Franklin’s unfinished comment. Few people could reconcile him with
the legendary Dusty Fog at first sight. ‘I tried to end it without
shooting, but they started to draw on me.’


Anybody else see it?’ Franklin inquired. ‘Which I don’t
doubt—’


You
have to ask,’ Dusty said and indicated Stagge. ‘This gent was here
from the start.’

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