The Floating Outfit 20: The Bad Bunch, page 12
"I'm just going to chaperone them," Dusty said, wanting to stop any gossip. "If you see any of the floating outfit, could you tell them that we're trying the Bayswater barn?"
"Sure Cap'n," grinned the man. "The Count'll make a right smart catch."
"You could be right at that," Dusty drawled and walked away leaving the couple believing that no more than an advantageous courtship lay behind the girl's following du Pont to the barn.
While Dusty wore a town shirt, tie and trousers, he retained his gun belt. Far too many people had reason to want to meet him unarmed for risks to be taken. He did not trouble to draw his guns while approaching the barn, as that would be a clear warning to du Pont that he expected trouble.
Dusty saw nothing of either Belle or du Pont as he approached the barn. Like most such places, it was illuminated by lanterns so that customers might leave or collect their horses without disturbing the owner. Advancing cautiously towards the front doors, he heard voices from inside.
"Why I just naturally followed you for a chance to be alone with you," Belle was saying.
"And for no other reason?" asked du Pont.
"Well, I did think that you liked me—."
"Stand still, feller!" rasped a voice from Dusty's left.
Turning his head slightly, Dusty saw a blocky shape move out of the shadows and approach him. A dull metallic glint hinted at a revolver in the man's hand and as he drew closer Dusty saw it to be a Deane & Adams Navy model with its barrel cut short for easy concealment. Not much taller than Dusty, the man wore a cheap town suit, derby hat, and would weigh a fair bit heavier than the small Texan.
Even as Dusty prepared to make a move, he realised that a shot would warn du Pont and endanger Belle. While the girl wore one of her special skirts, she might not be in a position to slip free of it. Nor did the approaching man offer any chance of reversing their positions, for he came to a halt well clear of Dusty.
"Unbuckle the gunbelt," ordered the man.
Like all good military leaders, Dusty knew when to surrender and obey. He sensed that the man could handle a gun well enough to make disobedience dangerous and, having Belle to consider, unbuckled the belt then allowed it to drop to the ground at his feet.
"What is it, Raoul?" called du Pont.
"Caught a feller snooping around," replied the man. "Bring him in."
Entering the barn, Dusty saw du Pont standing facing Belle. Behind the girl, holding her by the arms, was a tall, lean, city-dressed tough with a knife-scarred face that looked as mean as sin. Moving closer, Raoul did not touch Dusty with his revolver and had not troubled to bring in the small Texan's gunbelt.
"Ah, Dusty," greeted du Pont. "As they say in the stupid melodramas we see, the plot thickens."
"I can't say that I like this, Count," Dusty replied. "Finding Cousin Sarah here with you and you having one of your hired help mauling her."
"Please," du Pont smiled. "The young lady may be your cousin, but I doubt if either of you regard me merely as a possible husband for her."
"Why Cousin Dusty!" Belle gasped, looking as innocent as a new-born baby. "I surely don't know what the Count's talking about."
"Come now, Miss Blaze," du Pont replied. "This naive little country girl sits badly on you. It might have worked, but I saw the Kid watching my room at the hotel late this afternoon."
"You want for me to cut her up, maybe, boss?" asked the man behind Belle.
"Not yet, Henri," du Pont answered. "I'm curious to know where I went wrong, for they know I am not the Count of Bordeaux. It can't be because of wanted posters. I'm not known in Texas."
"Somebody knew you," Dusty pointed out.
"And I want to know who it was," du Pont told him.
"You heard the boss, runt," growled Raoul, stepping closer and lifting his revolver's barrel towards the back of Dusty's head. "If you or the gal don't talk, you're dead."
Which proved a mighty foolish thing to do. Lulled into a sense of false security by Dusty's small size and insignificant appearance, Raoul gave the Texan the awaited chance. Even the weapon held by the man, ideal though it might be for carrying concealed on the person, helped Dusty make his move.
Knowing something of Dusty's ways, Belle guessed that the moment for action had arrived. When making his suggestion about cutting the girl, Henri took his right hand from her arm. Like his companion, he failed to realise the danger. Already Belle's hand rested on her waistband, ready to free it. A slight nod from Dusty as the revolver lifted towards his head gave her the tip to move.
Down slid the skirt and as it landed Belle raised her right foot clear of it. She drove back the foot, spiking the high heel of her boot into Henri's shin bone with sickening force. A howl broke from the man and he released Belle's other arm. Like a flash she pivoted into a chassé croisé kick which stabbed into Henri's ribs and sent him staggering aside.
The moment Belle released her skirt, Dusty made his opening move. Given the momentary distraction caused by the girl's disrobing, Dusty took his chance. He knew the Deane & Adams revolver to be double-action, with no spur on the hammer so that trigger-pressure alone could fire it, and figured that gave him just a split-second longer in which to act.
Ducking down and twisting his torso around, Dusty threw up his right arm to strike Raoul's wrist and deflect the gun. Continuing to turn, Dusty caught the man's wrist with his right hand. Before Raoul realised fully what had happened, his revolver no longer lined on Dusty and strong fingers prevented him from turning it back. Whipping his left hand up and across towards his right shoulder, Dusty lashed it around. He used the uraken, back fist, of karate and drove the projecting knuckle of the second finger into the philtrum, the collection of nerves in the centre of the upper lip and just under the nose.
Although unable to deliver a blow hard enough to incapacitate Raoul, Dusty sent enough pain through him to make him relax his hold on the revolver. Sliding his right hand down from Raoul's wrist, Dusty gripped the Deane & Adams by the chamber and started to twist it free.
Once Henri had released her, Belle sprang forward and aimed a kick at du Pont's belly. Although as surprised as his men at the girl's action, du Pont recovered fast. He also showed a rapid grasp of the situation and knowledge of savate. Drawing back a pace to avoid the girl's kick, he hooked his right foot under her leg from its outer side and heaved. Thrown off balance, Belle staggered away and du Pont whirled towards Dusty. Leaping forward, du Pont brought up a kick which collided with the revolver and tore it from Dusty's grasp.
Releasing Raoul, Dusty lunged at du Pont. For once the small Texan under-estimated an enemy. Grabbing Dusty's shirt front, du Pont fell backwards and rammed a foot into the small Texan's stomach. Hauled off balance, Dusty felt his feet leave the ground and the sensation of flying through the air which always came when caught by such a throw. As he sailed over, propelled by du Pont's thrusting leg, Dusty prepared to land as softly as possible. Years of horse-riding helped his jujitsu training in the matter of breaking a fall. Allowing his body to relax, he let his hands and feet take the impact and cushion his landing.
Wild with rage and pain, Raoul plunged by his boss to land kneeling at Dusty's side. Thick-fingered hands lunged at the small Texan's throat and Dusty curled up his lower body. Out lashed Dusty's left leg, its boot colliding solidly with Raoul's face. Raoul reared back, lifted almost to his feet by the boot's impact. Blood spurted from his nose and he crashed over on to his rump.
While Dusty met the combined attack, Belle managed to gain control of her staggering body. She saw the danger which now threatened her as Henri rushed in her direction. Whipping under his jacket, the man's hand emerged holding a razor-sharp, spear-pointed push-dagger. While possessing only a four inch blade, such a knife in skilled hands worked almost as effectively as a bowie. From all appearances, Henri had the skill to make his weapon a deadly threat to Belle's life.
Giving the appearance of fear, Belle twisted away from the man. Then she flopped forward so that her hands hit the floor and legs bent under her. The move came only just in time. Out licked the push-dagger, to pass through where
Belle's ribs had been an instant before. Carried forward by the impetus of his slash, Henri could not halt himself. Which proved unfortunate. Balancing on her hands, Belle thrust her legs upwards and back. Her feet rammed with considerable force into Henri's advancing body. Breath burst from his lungs, he jack-knifed over and shot backwards faster than he could handle in his present state. Even as Henri collapsed in a double-over heap, Belle landed back on her feet and stood erect. Before doing anything further, she kicked the knife into the straw of a nearby stall. Then she turned to see how Dusty fared.
Starting to rise, Dusty saw du Pont already up and coming at him. Out lashed the Creole's foot, aimed at Dusty's ribs. Only this time Dusty was ready. Stabbing forward his hands, Dusty intercepted the oncoming leg. His right hand caught the boot, while his left closed on the ankle. As he rose, Dusty gave the trapped leg a twisting heave which threw du Pont staggering across the barn.
Du Pont caught his balance much sooner than Dusty expected and shot out a fist as the Texan followed him. Going under the blow, Dusty ripped a punch into du Pont's body and clipped his other hand into the man's face. Before he could do more, Dusty felt two hands close on his neck from behind. Shaking his head, du Pont hit Dusty in the face, closing in to take advantage of Raoul's intervention. Bringing up his right foot, Dusty placed it against du Pont's body and thrust the man away. Doing so allowed Dusty to move back against Raoul's grip and caused the man to relax his pressure slightly. Whipping up his hands, Dusty caught Raoul's wrists. Swiftly Dusty pivoted his body to the left and heaved the hands away from his neck. He jerked Raoul's left arm under the man's right and gave a surging heave which forced the right arm downwards. Coming so fast, and with Dusty's considerable strength behind it, the twisting of the arms catapulted Raoul over so that the man crashed down hard on his back.
Already du Pont came back to the attack. Before he could reach Dusty, Belle arrived. Bounding into the air while still some six foot away from du Pont, the girl drew both legs up under her and then shot them out in a thrusting kick. So intent had du Pont been on handling Dusty that he saw the danger too late. Belle's left foot struck his shoulder, but the right collided with the side of his head. The force of the leaping high kick flung du Pont sideways and he went down barely conscious. Even as she landed, the girl saw a fresh danger.
"Dusty!" she screamed.
Holding his belly, Henri lurched across to catch up a pitchfork from its place by one of the stalls. With the sharp-pointed weapon in his hands, he swung to charge. Dusty saw the Deane & Adams lying close by and dived forward. Catching up the revolver as he landed, he fired while still on his back. Lead tore into Henri's chest, spun him around and tumbled him to the ground.
"Hold it!" Dusty barked as Raoul sat up.
Although dazed, Raoul could still think well enough to know the danger. Crossing a man who could handle a strange gun that well was a sure way of getting killed. So the blocky man stayed on the ground and looked to his boss for guidance. Sitting up and shaking his head to clear it, du Pont looked around. He took in the gun Dusty held, Belle's graceful position of savate readiness and then turned his eyes to where Henri sprawled bleeding.
"All right, Dusty," du Pont said. "We're licked."
"I figured you might be," Dusty replied. "Go get my gunbelt from outside, Belle."
Without a thought for her appearance, Belle obeyed. She found the gunbelt and collected it, but saw no sign of anybody coming to investigate the shot. On her return, she hung the belt on a stall, handed Dusty the right hand Colt and took the Deane from him.
"May I ask what crime I'm supposed to have committed?" du Pont said, kneeling at Henri's side.
"How about having a Ranger killed?" asked Dusty. "A Rang—You're joking, no?"
"That's one thing I'd never joke about."
"I know the Rangers are being organised, but they know nothing of me. Why would I kill one?"
"Not you," corrected Dusty. "That knife-artist there."
"Henri? That's impossible. I told him to stay in his room and he always obeys my orders. Can we get a doctor to attend to him. He's not much to look at, but he's loyal. By the by, Raoul was with Henri all evening."
"As soon as I've had some answers," Dusty promised. "Can they prove they've never left the room?"
"Can you, Raoul?" asked du Pont.
"Only way out's by the desk clerk or down a rope from the window and that'd be facing the Ranchers' Bank," Raoul growled.
"So that's where you aimed to hit," Belle said.
"It was," sighed du Pont. "But, as I say, I have committed no crime here."
"How about in Brownsville on the twenty-seventh of last month?" asked Dusty.
"I would have had to be there to do so," du Pont replied. "And you weren't?"
"No."
"Where were you?" asked Dusty.
"That is my business."
"Go outside and start screaming, Belle," ordered Dusty. "What's this?" demanded du Pont.
"When the folks come to see why, I'll be hidden in a stall," Dusty said. "I don't reckon you being a `Count' will make any difference to how they treat you when they find you've been mishandling a girl."
A point which du Pont readily understood. He knew enough of Western owns to realise that being a distinguished visitor would not save him from the citizen's wrath on finding him in such a position.
"Why Brownsv—," he began. "Ah yes. The robbery. I assure you, Dusty, that on the twenty-seventh I was in Austin. And I can prove it. There was a large stake poker game—In fact some of the players are in town at the moment. Henri was with me. In fact he and Raoul wound up in jail the same night after a saloon fight."
"I think he's telling the truth, Dusty," Belle stated, donning her skirt and starting to tidy up her appearance.
So it proved. Not only did the players in the game confirm du Pont's story, but they cleared McKie who had never left the game after joining it at six o'clock. Whatever other crimes he might have committed, du Pont was not one of the Bad Bunch.
Chapter twelve - the bad bunch makes a raid
"Well we're no nearer to knowing who the Bad Bunch are," the Ysabel Kid remarked as he sat at breakfast with his friends on Saturday morning. "It wasn't McKie or that Creole who knifed young Prince. McKie couldn't have and that push-dagger wouldn't leave a gash like I saw in Prince."
"What's happening about du Pont's bunch?" asked Betty.
"The marshal's holding them in jail and seeing them on Monday's stage," Dust- told her. "There's not a hint of anybody else who might be the Bad Lunch."
"Maybe they aren't here at all," Betty suggested.
"I've a feeling they are," Belle answered. "This kind of set-up is just made for them."
"I go along with Belle," Mark drawled. "Don't ask me why—."
"The way Prince was killed tells us they're likely here," Dusty pointed out. "Now all we have to do is figure out where they'll hit."
"There're three banks and the Wells Fargo office to choose from," Betty said.
"Don't forget the County offices," Belle reminded. "In addition to tax money and their general funds, they're holding over nine thousand dollars in prize money for various events."
"Only that'll be gone by evening," Dusty replied. "The Bad Bunch have always hit after dark before this."
"They could change their ways," Belle warned. "Of the four, the county offices would be easiest to take. Its safe is in a ground floor room at the back—."
"With two men on watch over it twenty-four hours a day until the prize money's gone," Mark pointed out. "Jules fixed that up from the start."
"If they aim to hit that safe, it'll have to be this afternoon," Dusty insisted. "Otherwise there won't be enough money in it to be worth-while."
"Like you said, the Bad Bunch only hit in the dark," Mark put in.
"Only around the middle of the afternoon near on everybody’ll be out watching the finals of the different events," Dusty answered. "I bet there's not a handful of folks in town until evening."
"What do we do then, Dusty?" asked the Kid. "Take no chances," was the reply. "We'll watch—." "Where?" prompted Belle, seeing the difficulties as Dusty had.
"Every time so far they've set fire to some place to draw folks away from where they hit," Dusty said. "All four places are pretty close together, down to the south end of town. I'd say they'd pick on the Bayswater livery barn. It's the best place for them and it'd burn real good."
"So?" asked Betty.
"So when they send their man, I want one of us waiting for him."
"At the barn?" Mark inquired.
"Sure. We don't know which place they aim to hit, but we can near enough bet the Bayswater's where they touch off their fire."
"And if they don't pick that barn? Belle wanted to know. "Why not ask either Jules or the marshal for men—."
"Because they're both using every man they can spare to cover the banks and watch the crowds out at the events," Dusty replied. "We can't ask them to spare a man for something that may never happen."
"Looks like we'll have to handle it ourselves then," the Kid commented.
"I'll tell you what, Dusty," Mark drawled. "I'll watch the barn this afternoon while you and Lon take the girls to the races. If nothing happens, we'll all take a place and watch it tonight."
Which only went to prove, Mark told himself for the twentieth time as he sat in a stall at the livery barn, that he talked too much. While the rest of the town enjoyed the finals of various events, he waited for something which might not happen. Fort Worth's streets had the aspect of a ghost town, every business being closed. Even the saloons shut their doors, although the more enterprising carried supplies of liquid refreshments out to the various events in wagons and did a lively trade.
A shadow fell across the open door of the barn and Mark's right hand went automatically towards the butt of the off side Colt. Then he relaxed as a beautiful blonde girl entered. She wore a neat black travelling suit, white blouse and dainty hat. While fashionable, the clothes gave the impression of a slender, shapely figure without being blatant or making her look the less demure and charming. Despite the warmth of the day, she pandered to fashion by carrying a muff dangling from her left hand. Her eyes went to Mark and surprise flickered across her face; then she smiled and approached him.
