Ralph Compton Whiskey River (9 page)

“I can tell you only this much,” Mark said. “We have a fighting chance to come out of this alive and redeem ourselves in the eyes of the law. Whatever happens, we must not allow our weapons to be taken from us. We must convince Estrello that the ten of us are with him, and it won't be easy. The odds will still be impossibly long.”

“If we're aimin' to make a move,” said Keithley, “then you'll know about when and where. Is this somethin' me and the others are allowed to know?”

“Frankly, we're not sure,” Bill said. “There's planning to be done. What's your opinion on the gold Amanda and Betsy have hidden? Five years is quite a spell. I believe the gold's still there, but how can we be sure? If we lead Estrello's bunch that way, and the gold's gone, we're in big trouble.”

“Estrello believes the gold's still there,” said Keithley. “In fact, he believes there's as much as a hundred thousand. The only thing that's kept him reined in is that he's had so few men he could count on. Wilder and Bideno got as many of the bunch together as they could, demanding that the gold be recovered and divided. Estrello's trying to buy some time. The only thing that's kept him in command is that he's had to agree to a division of the gold, once we return from St. Louis with a final load of whiskey.”

“That's the truth,” Betsy said.

“The only thing that makes this stolen gold hard to swallow,” said Bill, “is that there's so many outlaws, and none of them have any idea where the gold is.”

“Amanda and me can find it,” Betsy said.

“Damn it,” said Mark, “this is getting deeper and deeper. Betsy, I'm not doubtin' your word or Amanda's, but what's kept these outlaws at bay for nearly five years? Why is it nobody's brought the water to a boil over this hidden gold?”

“Estrello's had old Jake to thank for that,” Betsy said. “When this outfit came together for the first time, Jake was second in command to Estrello himself. Back then, most of the men were loyal to Estrello and Jake, and the two of them wanted to freight in the illegal whiskey to the Indians. Their thinking was that the gold was safe enough, and that it could be recovered after the whiskey smuggling became too great a risk.”

“There's no reason for us not to believe that Betsy and Amanda know where the gold is,” said Keithley, “but something's botherin' me. When you gents showed up at Estrello's camp, he had killed Jake and had driven both girls naked into the woods. That don't make a hell of a lot of sense, with only them knowin' where the gold is.”

“Not until you consider Estrello and the way he thinks,” Betsy said. “He ran Amanda and me out of camp, naked, believing we'd come crawling back on his terms. But when he found us, we had Mark and Bill with us. Now he has less reason than ever for expecting Amanda and me to tell him where the gold is.”

“Perhaps there's one thing we're overlooking,” Amanda said. “Only Betsy and me can find the gold, and as long as we're unwilling, Estrello's in trouble. Suppose that changed? Suppose we agreed to lead Estrello to the gold, in exchange for our freedom?”

“As a last resort, it might work,” said Keithley, “but it would take some almighty powerful acting to pull it off.”

“I don't favor that,” Bill said. “Suppose it falls through? The girls end up there under Estrello's blankets, and the rest of us end up dead.”

“But it may be the only real hope we have,” said Betsy. “Can't you imagine what this bunch would do if they suddenly had a hundred thousand dollars in gold to divide among themselves? They'd murder us all to silence us.”

“She has a point there,” Keithley said. “That could hold everything together until we're back from St. Louis, but what happens when we can't stall any longer, and it's time to divvy up the gold? I'm not a very trusting
hombre
, and I'm the kind who would expect a double-cross. Especially with us hopelessly out-gunned.”

“I can't deny that,” said Mark, “and somehow we have to split this outfit. The gold—or even the promise of it—might do that, but the subject must be brought up without it involving Amanda and Betsy. Is there anybody in this outfit who can likely stir up trouble over this gold, without creating suspicion?”

“Clemans and Ursino,” Keithley said. “They was part of the original gang, and they fell out with Estrello when he allowed Jake and the girls to take the gold. I'd say it wouldn't take much to get Vernon and Nick up to a fighting pitch, since Jake's gone and only Amanda and Betsy know where the gold is.”

“That settles it,” Bill said. “We'll have to figure some way to get this bunch in a fight over this gold. Any ideas?”

“Clemans, Ursino, and Stackler are old-timers with this bunch. Soon as they saw the way the stick floated, they started tryin' to work their way in with Estrello. But Estrello felt like Jake had betrayed him, and he ain't trusted nobody since. Those three old-timers have long been in favor of bustin' up this outfit,” Keithley said.

Mark sighed. “That gets us back to having to trust somebody. Can you find out just how far we can go with Stackler, Ursino, Clemans, Sullivan, and Long?”

“I think so,” Keithley said, “but it's a touchy situation. We have to stir up enough hell to send ‘em all after the gold, without them goin' before we're ready.”

“Then we'll have to let these other men in on the scheme to give up the gold, so we can count on them when we come up against Estrello,” said Bill. “Do you reckon we can depend on Clemans or Ursino to raise some hell when we're ready for it?”

“Either or both,” Keithley said. “They ain't liked Estrello since he took over the outfit, after they had that first fallin'out over the gold.”

“It gets complicated,” said Mark. “What we must do is return that stolen gold and see that this whiskey smuggling along the Arkansas is stopped. For those who are willing to join us, the reward is freedom from prosecution, among other things. Those who are unwilling and insist on fighting must be gunned down to the last man.”

“The two of you talk like federal men,” Keithley said. “Can you tell me for sure who's siding you?”

“The state of Texas and the federal government,” said Bill. “When the time comes, we have the necessary proof. But before we do anything else, we must organize as many men as we can, who will stand their ground when there's a showdown with Estrello.”

“Yes,” Keithley said, “and they've got to hold off until we've completed this whiskey run from St. Louis. Let me talk to Nick, Vernon, and Ed. I think they're about ready to give up on the whiskey smuggling anyway. They got so much of a price on their heads, they might just hang it all up if the amnesty deal is good enough.”

“It'll be good enough,” said Mark, “but we must convince everybody involved that the run to St. Louis must come first. Any amnesty deal is a two-edged sword. Those accepting amnesty will have their crimes forgiven, while those who refuse will die with their guns in their hands.”

“Now I can see which way we're headed,” Keithley said. “We must separate the sheep from the goats. By the time we haul this load of whiskey from St. Louis, we should have two different camps: one ready to keep smuggling, and the other willing to give it up in return for freedom from prosecution.”

“That's what is all boils down to,” said Mark. “Somehow this whiskey problem must be resolved, and the only way we can do it is divide and conquer. Even then, the odds will be unbelievably long.”

Contrary to what Wolf Estrello had hoped, a new cloud mass moved in from the west, and instead of the rain ceasing, it took a new start.

“Damn it,” said Estrello, “we can get these empty wagons to the landing at Fort Smith aboard the boats bound for St. Louis. By the time the boats return from St. Louis with the wagons and whiskey, the ground should be dry.”

Wilder laughed. “Estrello, you sweat and worry like an old woman.”

Some of the other outlaws laughed, reason enough for Estrello to wonder how many of them would side with him in an open rebellion. Estrello chose to ignore the remark, and gave an order. “I want these teams hitched and the wagons ready to go at daylight. I want you riders strung out the length of the caravan, and don't concern yourselves with only what's ahead. An attack could come from any quarter.”

Todd Keithley hurriedly harnessed his teams. His wagon was close enough to Ed Stackler's to allow Keithley a chance for some fast talking.

Stackler took only a minute to make up his mind. “I'd shuck it all, Keithley, for a chance to ride back to Texas and start over. Just to be able to lie down at night without a pistol in my hand.”

“There's not much I can tell you,” said Keithley, “except the State of Texas and the federal government aims to offer amnesty. Those choosing not to accept will be hunted down to the last man.”

“I can understand that,” Stackler said. “How long before the showdown?”

“Sometime on the last leg of the run with the whiskey,” said Keithley. “Probably after we take the loaded wagons off the boats beyond Fort Smith. I need your help in getting to Ursino, Clemans, Long, and Sullivan. Can you do it without Estrello or his bunch deciding something's wrong?”

“If I can't do it today, I will tonight,” Stackler said. “Where do the new men stand?”

“With us,” said Keithley, “and that's all I can tell you.”

 

The wagons were ready to go at dawn, and despite the soggy ground and the continued rain, Estrello shouted for them to move out. Mark and Amanda were on the box of the wagon that had belonged to Jake Miles, Bill and Betsy had the wagon directly behind. The remaining wagons were strung out to the rear. They hadn't progressed a hundred yards when trouble struck. One of Mark's lead mules stepped into a leaf-filled stump hole, and as a result of the shock and pain, the animal reared, trying to escape the harness. One of the outriders—Drew Wilder—drew his rifle from the boot and swinging it hard as he could, struck the spooked mule in the head. Stunned, the unfortunate animal sagged to its knees. That was as long as it took Mark Rogers to launch himself from the wagon box. He swept Wilder out of the saddle, and when the two got to their feet, Wilder had his hand on the butt of his Colt. When Mark hit him, he lay on the muddy ground and began cursing Mark.

“Nobody manhandles Drew Wilder and lives to talk about it,” he snarled.

“Nobody mistreats an animal when I'm around,” said Mark. “Next time—if there is one—I'll kill you.”

“What the hell's holding things up?” Estrello shouted, reining up.

“One of the mules stepped into a deep hole and got spooked,” Clemans said. “Wilder slugged the varmint with the muzzle of his rifle. Rogers came off the wagon box like a cougar, after Wilder. It ended just like you likely saw it.”

“I did see most of it,” said Estrello. “Wilder, you're not a teamster. If you ever lay a hand on one of these animals again, you'll answer to me.”

“When I choose to talk to you,” Wilder snarled, “you'd better have a cocked pistol in your hand.”

The Spaniard—Alonzo Bideno—stood tense, his hand near the butt of his Colt, for he and Wilder were friends. Only when he saw Mark watching him did he let it go. Some of the other men had turned hard eyes on Wilder. Mark ignored him, however, and was examining the injured mule.

“How badly is he hurt?” Estrello asked.

“He's not going to be working for a few days,” said Mark, “and you can see where he was hit by Wilder's rifle.”

“Damn you, Wilder,” Estrello said. “We don't have another mule to replace him.”

“Well, use a horse,” snarled Wilder.

“You do not mix horses and mules,” Estrello said in disgust. “Rogers, this is part of your team. What do you suggest?”

“Mules and horses don't pull the same,” said Mark, “but they can work together when they're harnessed right. Bring me two horses that ain't easy spooked.”

The two horses were brought. Mark left the first two mules in harness. Ahead of them, he harnessed the two horses. Finally—ahead of the horses—he harness two more mules. The remaining two mules—including the injured one—he tied to lead ropes behind the wagon.

“Hell, that ain't never gonna work,” Tull McLean said.

“It wouldn't for you,” said Mark, “but it will for me.”

Outlaws they were, but they had respect for a man's ability to handle his horse. Mark took the time to speak to the skittish horses, ruffling their ears. Amanda still sat on the wagon box, and Mark climbed up beside her. After several false starts, the two horses settled into their harness, and the wagon was again moving.

 

Not until after supper did Keithley have another chance to talk to Bill and Mark. “All the men in question are with us,” Keithley said. “You got Wilder a mite upset with you, though. He's trying to turn the others against us.”

“
Bueno,
” said Mark. “That gives him a reason for hating me, without involving the stolen gold or the illegal whiskey. That was a damn fool thing to do, hurting a mule when you don't have one to replace it, but it worked to our advantage. Wilder didn't make himself any friends, and he may have hurt his standing with Estrello.”

“I'm on the second watch tonight, with Nick, Vernon, and Ed,” said Keithley. “I aim to answer any questions they may have. At some point, one of you will need to talk to Long and Sullivan. There's so few of us, we must nail down what we have.”