The Floating Outfit 64 Read online

  The Home of Great Western Fiction!

  Arizona Territory: loaded with silver, gold, and copper—and running with blood. Now some hard-riding Texans are making a stand, backed up by the smoking guns of a bantam-fighter-turned-sheriff named Fog, the fists of a blond giant named Counter, and the honed steel of a silent killer, the Ysabel Kid. But the forces of greed aren’t going to let go of Spanish Grant County without a final fight, and an army of hired gunslingers has been sent to take on the Texans. And what the outlaws can’t win with Colts and Winchesters they’ll try another way—by taking some women hostages, and earning the ire of a shootist named Calamity Jane!

  THE FLOATING OUTFIT 64: ARIZONA GUN LAW

  By J. T. Edson

  First published by Dell Books in 1997

  Copyright © 1997, 2021 by J. T. Edson

  First Electronic Edition: October 2021

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by means (electronic, digital, optical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

  Series Editor: Ben Bridges

  Text © Piccadilly Publishing

  Published by Arrangement with the Author’s Agent.

  Publisher’s Note:

  As with other books in this series, the author uses characters’ native dialect to bring that person to life. Whether they speak French, Irish, American English or English itself, he uses vernacular language to impart this.

  Therefore when Scottish characters use words such as “richt” instead of “right”; “laird” for “lord”; “oopstairs” for “upstairs”; “haim” for “home”; “ain” for “own”; “gude sores” for “good sirs” and “wha” for who” plus many other phrases, please bear in mind that these are not spelling/OCR mistakes.

  Dedicated by Tiberius the Tarantula and myself to our favorite ornithologist, student of the “boid” Wild Turkey that is, and teller of risqué jokes, Halina Maj.

  Author’s Note

  WHILE COMPLETE IN itself, this narrative follows immediately after the events recorded in Wedge Goes Home and Arizona Range War.

  When supplying us with the information from which we produce our books, one of the strictest rules imposed upon us by the present-day members of what we call the “Hardin, Fog, and Blaze” clan and the “Counter” family is that we never under any circumstances disclose their true identity or their present locations. Furthermore, we are instructed to always employ enough inconsistencies with regard to periods and places in which incidents take place to ensure that neither can happen even inadvertently.

  We would also point out that the names of people who appear in this volume are those supplied to us by our informants in Texas, and any resemblance with those of other persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  We realize that, in our present permissive society, we could use the actual profanities employed by various people in the narrative. However, we do not concede that a spurious desire to create realism is any justification for doing so.

  Since we refuse to pander to the current trendy usage of the metric system, except when referring to the caliber of certain firearms traditionally measured in millimeters—e.g., Luger 9 mm—we will continue to employ miles, yards, feet, inches, pounds and ounces when quoting distances and weights.

  Lastly, and of the greatest importance, we must stress that the attitudes and speech of the characters is put down as would have been the case at the period of this narrative.

  J. T. EDSON

  Chapter One – So You Aim to Keep on With It?

  “I’VE NEVER HAD so much lousy luck!” Anthony Blair stated in a whining voice that even after many years in the United States had an accent that still gave evidence he had grown up in Birmingham, England. “Everything’s gone wrong.”

  “Not quite everything,” Willis Norman objected in his surly New England tones. “At least Jack Straw made sure that lousy, yellow-bellied Nicholson couldn’t tell any more than he already had about what we had him do.”

  “It should have been done a damned sight sooner!” Graeme Steel pointed out, although he hated to have to give even a suggestion that another of the men he had been responsible for hiring had proved wanting in any way. Bitter in timbre, his voice gave no indication of his origins in its accent and manner. “The bastard gave them my name before he died.”

  “That was bad luck,” Norman admitted, but without any noticeable sympathy over such information having been supplied, since his name had not been included in it as far as he knew.

  “Real bad, for you, Steel, I’ll admit,” Blair went on, also without any concern over what had been told to the men who had captured and were compelling John Nicholson—the senior land agent for Arizona Territory—to tell them certain things that he and his companions had no desire to be disclosed. The reason for the lack of commiseration was the same as that of the previous speaker. “At least Straw got us out of the Spreckley so we could come here, where nobody knows how to find us, before either those two ranchers from Spanish Grant County who the half-breeds are working for, or the law if they’ve reported the killing, could come to see us about it.”

  Although the three men seated around the table in the small yet well-furnished room had been partners for some time in a scheme by which they hoped to make a fortune apiece and gain positions of great power in Arizona, there was a marked contrast in their respective physical appearances.

  Small, lean, and with parchmentlike sharp features, Blair looked as if he were a not too successful undertaker even when he had been occupying the best suite offered by the Spreckley Hotel in Prescott, from which he and the other two had been advised earlier in the evening to take a hurried departure. Elsewhere throughout Arizona, the most noticeable thing about him would have been that there was no sign of his being armed. However, this was no particularly noticeable omission in the capital of Arizona, which remained a territory and had not been raised to the state many people—but not he and his associates, at least not until they were able to exert a considerable control over its affairs—hoped to have it become. i

  Capable of producing an aura of convincing and reassuring bonhomie when it was required, which he did not think was the case at that moment, Norman was close to seven inches taller than Blair and weighed nearly twice as much. Massive of lines and porcine of face, on less stressful occasions he could present a friendly demeanor implying he was far more trustworthy than was really the case. His bulky body strained at the costly Eastern garments he wore; he, too, gave no indication of bearing weapons of any kind on his person. Under normal conditions, it was his part in their partnership to provide an amicable atmosphere leading to trust or cooperation on the part of the one being subjected to it, which neither of the others was suited by appearance or nature to deliver no matter how great the need.

  In many respects, Steel was a much less noticeable figure than either of his two associates. He was in height and build between them, and everything about him—even his city-style clothing—was so ordinary in appearance that he could easily have passed unnoticed through a crowd at any level of Prescott society, except where those, such as cowhands, who wore attire peculiar to their specific line of work were concerned. He had mouse-brown hair—now left visible by the plain gray derby hat he was carrying—and a face devoid of charac
teristics. Despite being equally wealthy and unscrupulous, he seemed to have nothing in common with his associates. Nevertheless, like them, he possessed a number of contacts of vital importance, and one of them accompanied him now.

  Having spent most of their grown-up lives involved in various kinds of activities, not all of them legal, this diverse and unlikely trio of partners had been brought together with the intention of gaining possession of a large piece of land in Arizona. There had also been a side issue, which was even more illegal than the means they had elected to bring about the primary object: obtaining a large sum of money in a lump sum to add to their long-term profits.

  Because Congress had ratified the Spanish grant for its original owner when the annexation of Arizona by the United States was completed on February 24, 1863, the vast area of land that became the county of that name remained under his control despite the envious eyes that were constantly being cast upon it by various American speculators eager to gain possession of it. His dominance had been far from despotic. In fact, he had allowed a town owned by American businessmen of various kinds to rise in the center of the area. When he died intestate and no members of his race put in claims, the government in Washington, D.C.—many members of which had never favored the proposition of one person, especially one with Mexican citizenship, owning so great an area on United States soil—had ruled that it would be divided into four equal portions demarcated by natural features such as hill ranges and rivers.

  Hearing what was proposed through sources in the national capital before the matter was made public, Blair, Norman, and Steel had seen a way to eventually acquire the whole region. They had known any attempt to bring this about as a single corporation would be resisted strenuously and probably be to no avail, so they had sought a man sufficiently ruthless to carry out the scheme. Having been acquainted with Eustace Edgar Eisteddfod under a different name in Washington, D.C., Norman had claimed that his knowing something of the reason for the change of identity made him perfect for their needs. ii At the beginning, the alleged Welshman had carried out his duties to the complete satisfaction of his employers. He had selected the candidates for ownership of the other three ranches and made them agree to a contract drawn up by an attorney in Prescott whereby any who died let his land be shared between the survivors.

  The trio had accepted from the start that a considerable amount of time would have to pass before the scheme came to fruition, and they had been required to take on some silent partners they would have preferred to avoid to help with the financing. Despite there having so far been no profit accruing in return for the considerable expenditure required, which the unwelcome backers had accepted as inevitable, the arrangements went along in a manner that met with the approval of the three conspirators. They had allowed a sufficient period to elapse for the quartet to become accepted as bona fide landowners, even though only Cornelius MacLaine had had experience of the cattle business and the other three would be dependent on the honest foremen who were obtained to carry out the running of the ranches. The conspirators—having continued their less-than-honest speculations elsewhere to maintain their finances—had gathered in Prescott to keep a watchful eye on developments from closer at hand. With the assistance of an agent based in Child City, the seat of Spanish Grant County, they had instructed Eisteddfod to commence the next stage of the scheme.

  With the aid of an ex-jockey called Beagle who had been barred from his employment in that line for dishonesty, the “Welshman” had arranged for Douglas Loxley of the Lazy Scissors ranch to die by what appeared to be a riding accident. Too late it had been discovered that the ranch had been left in an incontestable will to a kinsman, Major Wilson Eardle, who had recently retired after a career with the United States Cavalry. To make matters worse, when a similar fate befell MacLaine, who ran the CM brand, it was discovered that he too had arranged for the property to go to a relative, a Texan called Jethro “Stone” Hart, well-known for running a group of very competent and loyal contract trail drivers known as the Wedge. The three conspirators had decided that Hart, more experienced in all matters pertaining to the cattle business and the ways of the West, could prove much the tougher nut to crack.

  Eisteddfod had suggested what might be done to make their scheme successful. After receiving the backing they required, including a group of young Easterners donated by some of the wealthy liberals in Washington, D.C.—who had no desire to see Arizona attain statehood unless they could gain at least some control of its legislature—the Welshman had set about trying to create hostility between the two new ranch owners and stir up animosity against both in Child City. There had followed a series of failures that ended with Eisteddfod, Beagle, and the leader of the hired guns who were supplied by the conspirators dead, fortunately without any of them being able to tell what had brought them to their fate.

  With much money already invested in the scheme, despite having found that the liberals were disinclined to supply more financial aid, the conspirators had no intentions of giving up their efforts. However, they had already acquired more lucrative backing, so this had not worried them unduly. Although they had failed to acquire the services of Hayden Paul Lindrick, the only professional gunfighter who would be suitable for a scheme to have the bank in Child City robbed and bring about the ruin of many of the local citizens, they had discovered that the robbery had been attempted anyway. According to information they had received, the attempt had ended in failure. iii

  The bad luck to which Blair had referred had continued.

  Instead of having been provoked into starting a range war between them, the men who had inherited two ranches made vacant by the murder of the previous owners had settled their differences amicably and become friends. Nor had this been changed by two ideas for creating discord between them and the citizens of Child City, instigated by the conspirators.

  Guessing correctly that Stone Hart and Major Wilson Eardle—who had changed the brands of their respective properties to the Wedge and AW—would try to purchase one of the other two ranches that became available through the death of the surviving pair involved in the plot, the trio had sought to prevent them from reaching the office of the territorial land agent and making a bid by having them ambushed and killed on the journey between Child City and Prescott. iv Even though this had failed, fortunately with the only one involved who might have led the law to the conspirators having died in the ensuing fighting, they had set in motion another plot. By a combination of bribery and blackmail, they had induced John Nicholson to accept forged documents claiming that the dead ranchers had also left their properties to kinsmen.

  Satisfied that they had done all they could to protect their interests from the ranchers, the trio had received a message by telegraph in code from their informant in Child City. The bank robbery had failed, again with the only person who could have betrayed them killed in the attempt. However, the misfortunes had not ended there. Waylaid while on his way to visit a prostitute in one of the town’s houses of ill repute, this married man and pillar of the community had been induced by his captors to start telling things they would not have wished to be disclosed. He had been killed by one of the men they had hired, but not before he had revealed Steel’s name and their location. Warned of this by the man, they had left the hotel and taken advantage of an offer from an associate to make use of his home while he and his wife were away on vacation.

  “Maybe you should go east as soon as you can,” Norman suggested, eyeing the undistinguished-looking man in a pointed fashion.

  “Like hell I will,” Steel refused determinedly.

  “Only until things quieten down,” Blair suggested.

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily!” Steel snarled. He was suspicious by nature and had no faith in the integrity of the men with whom he was cooperating. “We’re all in this together, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

  Before the partners could continue what appeared likely to develop into another of their frequently
acrimonious debates—none was willing to accept any assumption of leadership by the others or to accept blame for anything that went amiss—the door of the room was opened without the formality of a knock.

  The man who came unbidden across the threshold carried a well-worn, tan-colored J. B. Stetson hat with its crown taken up into a Montana peak. v The trio recognized him immediately as Jack Straw. Despite the politeness implied by the way he entered, there was nothing subservient in his attitude. Rather, he looked as though he considered himself to be on terms of equality with those he had come to see. Because of the reason they had originally made contact with him, and because he already knew about their plans, they had to admit—if only each to himself—that this was close to being the case.

  Straw’s brown hair was short-cropped and going gray at the temples, and his heavily mustached tanned face had the texture of old leather. His attire was the functional working garb of a cowhand from the state that supplied the name for his headdress style. Well-made, his gunbelt carried a brace of walnut-handled Colt Model P of 1873 Peacemaker revolvers. The one at the right was a Civilian Model and hung just right for a rapid withdrawal. However, with its handle turned forward to allow a draw with either hand, the one on his left was a longer Cavalry Model that allowed for more accurate shooting over great distances, as he had proved earlier that night when killing Nicholson. He advanced with a leisurely-seeming yet swift stride, and although his boots—which had the pointed toes but lacked the high heels of those worn by members of the trade—themselves made no sound, the big spurs attached to their heels gave a noticeable jingling that had necessitated their removal before he moved into firing position earlier that night.

  “Mind if I help myself to a drink ’n’ a smoke, gents?” the newcomer inquired and, after receiving a nod from Steel, went to get the required items from the top of the sidepiece. Having taken a glass half full of whiskey and a cigar, he returned to the table. “Well, none of ’em’s gone to see the town clown or the sheriff so far, them both using the same building. ’Course, they could have put what they know in the hands of the Pink-Eyes, seeing as how that’s where they went after leaving the land agent’s.”