The Floating Outfit 23 Read online

  At that moment Danny happened to glance at Bescaby. Never had he seen such terror as that shown on the barn owner’s face. Danny could almost scent the smell of fear as Bescaby stared at the scene before him. If the Howkins family affected every citizen of Moondog in the same manner, then Danny figured it to be high time the Rangers made a thorough investigation.

  “That feller jumped your brother for no cause at all, Miss Howkins,” yelled one of the hardcases.

  “And you’re a liar,” she replied calmly. “I saw the whole thing. Get the hell out of here, both of you.”

  The two men turned and slunk out of the room with the attitude of a whipped cur expecting a kick in passing.

  Once more Howkins struggled against Danny’s grip, but with no more success than the cottontail in the grip of a big rattlesnake. “I only tried to buy his horse, Stella!” he yelped.

  “Only I don’t take to getting a hit in the mouth as boot for the deal,” Danny put in.

  “Release my brother,” Stella Howkins said.

  “And how about those two jaspers with you?” countered Danny.

  “They won’t make a move.”

  “They’d best not make one,” Danny warned, releasing and shoving aside his captive. He retained the Colt in his right hand, an advantage that no amount of speed the two men might be capable of could off-set.

  Staggering forward, Howkins let out a keening snarl of rage. He skidded to a halt and turned, a hand reaching towards his gun. Instantly his sister stepped forward, caught his arm and swung him to face her.

  “Don’t be dramatic, Harry,” she purred—a sound as menacing as the hideous warning of a she-cougar guarding its cubs. “Go down to the saloon, I’ll buy the horse for you.”

  Watching Stella Howkins’ face, Danny saw why the men obeyed. Never had he seen such ruthless power, certainly not on any woman of his acquaintance. Clearly Stella Howkins had a will of iron and it would go badly with anybody who. crossed her. Not a comforting thought to Danny as he aimed to do more than cross her, he aimed to stand there and flat refuse something she requested.

  Throwing a malevolent scowl at Danny, Howkins turned and slouched out of the barn. Stella watched her brother go, gave a sorrowful head-shake and then swung back to face Danny.

  “All right, cowboy,” she said. “How much do you want for the horse?”

  “Like I told your brother, ma’am,” Danny replied. “It’s not for sale.”

  A slight frown creased Stella’s brow, drawing her eyes together and making her look mean as hell. From the little he had seen of her, Danny reckoned Stella could raise more anger with a little frown than most folks were capable of if they gave out a whole belly-full of cursing.

  “I’ll give you a hundred dollars and the pick of the Lazy H remuda.”

  “That’s a tempting offer, ma’am. Only I’ve got kind of attached to that old sabino and sure wouldn’t want to part with it.”

  Stella glanced at the gun Danny still held, then turned her eyes to the men flanking her. At any moment she would give them an order. Danny knew that for a fact, knew she would not allow the drawn gun to hold her back. So it appeared, did Greenwood. A momentary flicker of worry crossed the ex-Ranger’s face. Having served in the same company as Danny, Greenwood knew the other’s ability at handling a gun. Danny might not be real fast, it took him a good second to draw, and one needed half that speed to be reckoned fast, but he could call his shots with accuracy. Given an even start, Greenwood reckoned he and Wigg could take the Ranger and both come out of it alive; but not when Danny held a cocked revolver already in his hand.

  “A Ranger needs a good hoss, Miss Howkins,” Greenwood said.

  Two – He Knows Why I Hit Him

  “A Ranger?” asked Stella, throwing a meaning glance at Wigg. “Are you a Texas Ranger?” she went on, turning her eyes once more to Danny.

  “He for sure is,” Greenwood answered. “That there’s Danny Fog, the feller who got the bunch of Comancheros run by Choya Santoval, and bust up the cow thieves in Caspar County.” i

  “I see,” she said, walking forward.

  “Yes sir, Miss Howkins,” Greenwood continued, watching Danny with mocking eyes as he followed the woman forward. “That there’s Danny Fog, Dusty Fog’s kid brother.”

  An annoyed glint came into Danny’s eyes at the other man’s last four words. Not that Danny felt ashamed of his relationship to the Rio Hondo gun wizard, but he figured his work as a Ranger entitled him to be a separate identity and not ‘Dusty Fog’s kid brother.’ Nor was his dislike for Greenwood, the antipathy every honest lawman felt when confronted by a dishonest peace officer-even after the dishonest one’s discharge—lessened by the way the man exposed him as a Texas Ranger. Again Danny felt no shame at being a member of the Rangers, but his work would be a damned sight harder now that people knew of his connections with the law.

  “My offer is still open to you, Ranger Fog,” Stella said. “Please put that gun away, you don’t need it now.”

  That figured. No man would deliberately make trouble with a Ranger unless he had a very good cause.

  Spinning on his trigger-finger, Danny’s Colt went back into leather. Then his right hand bunched into a fist and shot forward. Driven by powerful muscles, thrown in a manner taught by a man known for his fighting skill, the fist smashed into the side of Greenwood’s jaw, spun him round twice and sent him crashing to the floor.

  Apparently Danny’s action in holstering his Colt had lulled the other’s suspicions. Not only Greenwood was taken by surprise, Wigg hesitated just a moment too long. Even as his right fist smashed into Greenwood, Danny’s left hand turned palm out and drew the near-side Colt in a cavalry-twist motion. By the time Wigg’s brain sent an order, his move froze under the persuasive muzzle of Danny’s fresh-drawn Colt. With fingers hovering a scant two inches from the right side Remington’s butt, Wigg glanced at Stella for guidance.

  Stella looked down at the dazed, sprawled-out Greenwood, then raised her eyes towards Danny. “Why did you do that?” she asked.

  “Try asking him, ma’am,” Danny replied keeping his attention on Wigg.

  “Would he know?” she inquired.

  “He knows why I hit him,” Danny confirmed.

  “I’d like you to explain.”

  “Greenwood rode as a Ranger. He knows why we don’t show our badges.”

  “I see.”

  “Don’t be loco, Wally!” Wigg shouted as the other sat up shaking his head, snarling curses and reaching towards his hip.

  Then Greenwood’s head cleared enough for him to think constructively. What he saw warned him that the Ranger held all the best cards in the game.

  “Greenwood was only being helpful,” Stella pointed out.

  “Depends, ma’am,” Danny answered.

  “What on?”

  “Who he was helping.”

  A faint smile came to the woman’s lips, yet did not reach her eyes; they studied Danny in a calculating manner. Once before he had seen a woman examine him in the same manner; when Ella Watson, organizer of the Caspar County cow thieves first saw him, and not knowing him to be a Ranger, wondered if he would make a useful addition to her outfit.

  “Greenwood might not like it,” she pointed out.

  “He can get up on his hind legs and tell me about it.”

  “There’s that to it,” Stella purred.

  Slowly Greenwood climbed to his feet. He looked to Wigg for support and caught the almost imperceptible head-shake Stella gave the other man. On seeing his employer’s signal, Wigg relaxed and clearly showed he did not intend to back Greenwood’s play.

  Watching Danny’s Colt go back into its holster, Greenwood became conscious of four sets of eyes studying him. He knew Stella Howkins wanted to see how he handled the matter; which raised a point. Greenwood himself did not know how to move next. In their time together at Company G, Greenwood had seen Danny handle his Colts but only on a training range. The ex-Ranger knew just how little drawing a gun and popping holes in a target, which did not shoot back, meant. One could not judge a man’s true potential until seeing him in a shooting scrape; and Greenwood always tried to avoid taking chances as a Ranger. However, he knew some of Danny’s exploits ii and more than a little about the other’s brother’s prowess with a brace of Army Colts. Danny learned gun-handling from the same source that trained Dusty Fog, the man claimed to be the fastest gun in Texas. Maybe Danny lived up to the family tradition, for his father, Sheriff Hondo Fog, had a name for being a good man with a gun. During his work against the Caspar County cow thieves, Danny met, faced and beat Ed Wren, a fast hired killer, in a fair fight. That implied a speed which put Danny into a class beyond Greenwood’s range.

  Of course Greenwood could always take up the matter with bare hands, but he knew all too well Danny’s potential as a rough-house fighter and wanted no part of the tall blond in that line. Although conscious of Stella’s mocking, expectant gaze, Greenwood made no attempt to take reprisals for the blow.

  At last Stella spoke. “It seems he doesn’t want to make anything of it.”

  “Looks that way, ma’am,” Danny agreed.

  Stella gave a slight, pregnant pause, eyes on Greenwood, daring him to accept Danny’s challenge. A slight frown creased her brow when the man still made no move; and her voice became chilling and contemptuous as she said; “Go fetch me my horse, Greenwood.”

  Normally, as Greenwood well knew, she would have sent the livery barn’s owner to fetch her mount. Scowling at Danny, the ex-Ranger turned and slouched from the building. Danny knew he had made a dangerous enemy. Never would Greenwood forget the humiliation heaped upon him. Given a suitable opportunity, he would strike back at Danny. Being aware of that, Danny meant to give the other as little chance of r
evenge as constant alertness allowed.

  “I’m sorry about the sabino, ma’am,” Danny said after Greenwood left.

  “I understand. Are you in Moondog on business?”

  “Should I be?”

  “If you should, I don’t know the reason,” she answered. “We’ve a quiet, peaceful and friendly little town here. Is that right, Mr. Bescaby?”

  Emotions played momentarily on Bescaby’s face as he looked from Danny to the woman and gunman. For an instant a faint glimmer of hope showed on the man’s face, then it died as he found Stella’s cold eyes and Wigg’s mocking smile before him.

  “Th—That’s right, Miss Howkins,” Bescaby said, his voice bearing the bitter undertones of despair.

  “So I fail to see why we should attract the attentions of the Rangers when there are so many more places in greater need of your services,” Stella went on, ignoring Bescaby after the question.

  “How many Rangers have been here?” Danny asked, watching Stella’s face.

  If he hoped to shock some emotion out of the woman, he failed. Not by a flicker of an eyelid did she show that the words meant anything to her. Nor did Wigg give any sign that he might know of other Rangers in the area.

  “You’re the first that I’ve seen,” Stella stated. “How about you, Mr. Bescaby. Have you seen any?”

  “No, Miss Howkins.”

  Watching Bescaby closely as he had studied the woman, Danny could see no sign of held-back knowledge and doubted if a man as scared as Bescaby would be able to conceal his emotions.

  “Did you expect to find any of your friends here?” Stella asked.

  “Can’t say I did,” Danny replied, telling the truth as far as it went. Naturally he could not mention the fact that two more of his company worked undercover in the area.

  “Will you be staying here long?” she went on.

  Danny thought fast. Until Greenwood identified him—and gained a crack on the jaw for his treachery—Danny aimed to stay in town and pose as a drifting cowhand resting before finding a new riding chore. With the line closed to him, he needed to find a fresh reason for his presence.

  “I’ll be here for a spell, ma’am,” he said meeting her careful scrutiny with an attitude of one telling the unvarnished truth. “There’s been a bunch of owlhoots hitting the banks of small towns like this pretty regular and Captain Murat got word that they’re headed this way. So he sent me down here to be on hand should they come.”

  Even if Stella contacted headquarters, Danny knew he could rely on the man at the other end to back up his story, or cover for him if she worded her question in a manner which did not explain his excuse.

  On the face of it, Stella accepted his story, for she acted just right.

  “As the bank’s biggest depositor,” she said with a smile, “I’m pleased to know that we have a Ranger on hand to guard our property. It’s no secret that our local law leaves a lot to be desired. Still, we’re a poor county and can’t run to hiring men of Dallas Stoudenmire’s class—nor do we have any need to normally. My men don’t cause trouble in town. Do they, Mr. Bescaby?”

  “No!” The word popped like the cork from a bottle.

  “Moondog prides itself on Mr. Bescaby,” Stella told Danny. “He’s the only quiet livery barn owner in the west.”

  “Sure is a change from most,” Danny agreed. “I’ll tend to my horse.”

  “Of course. I don’t have a house in town and my place is too far out for you to make it your base, although you’ll always be welcome to come visiting. But if you mention my name at the hotel I’m sure they will find you a room.”

  “Why, thank you kindly, ma’am. I’ll do that.”

  “And I’ll exp—hope that you keep me informed, let me know of any developments.”

  “Sure, ma’am. Say, I hear that you own most of the range in these parts.”

  “I do.”

  “Then you might warn your hands that I’ll be doing considerable riding. Captain Murat wants me to try to stop them out of town if I can, and I don’t want cowhands chasing after me, thinking I’m a cow thief.”

  “Feel free to go anywhere you wish,” she answered calmly. “I’ll warn my men.”

  Just as the woman turned to go. Danny decided to try something. “This bunch I’m after. They always send a couple of fellers into town to scout it, sometimes get them in as much as three weeks ahead of time. You haven’t seen any strangers around in the past few weeks, have you?”

  “I haven’t,” Stella stated. “How about you, Mr. Bescaby?”

  “No, Miss Howkins, I’ve seen nobody.”

  If everything had been all right, Stella and Bescaby would have mentioned the two Rangers. Folks with money in a threatened bank usually showed real good memories when questioned about suspicious visitors. While the Rangers would not have made themselves conspicuous, Danny knew folks in a small town like Moondog must have seen them around and of all people the livery barn’s owner ought to remember them. “You could be on a bum steer, Ranger,” Wigg remarked. “Could be, but until Captain Murat calls me in, I’m staying here.”

  “We’ll try to make your stay a happy one,” Stella promised. “I’m sure everybody in town would want that. Wouldn’t they, Mr. Bescaby?”

  “Yes, Miss Howkins,” Bescaby agreed.

  Smiling, Stella turned and walked from the barn. Wigg gave Bescaby a long, cold warning stare and then swung about to follow his employer.

  “Use that empty stall there, Ranger,” Bescaby said, speaking in a louder voice than necessary. “I’ll fetch hay and grain for your horse.”

  Danny led the sabino into the indicated stall and started to remove the saddle. He wondered how much of his story Stella believed. There was a mighty shrewd woman and nobody’s fool. She seemed to have everybody in town buffaloed, or thought she had; her whole attitude showed that.

  Usually a man in Bescaby’s position would have been on hand to talk with his visitor, swapping news and gossip. On his return with a filled hay-net and a bucket of grain, Bescaby showed every sign of wanting to leave Danny’s presence as soon as he could.

  “You sure you haven’t seen any strangers around town?” Danny asked. “One tall and red-headed, the other shorter, stocky.”

  Throwing a nervous look towards the front doors, Bescaby shook his head. “No. There’s been nobody like that around here.”

  Every instinct told Danny that the man lied, but he did not press the matter further. He would get nothing from a man as badly scared as Bescaby and might even have cause to regret any effort to force the issue.

  Ignoring the owner’s departure, Danny cared for his horse and saw it settled in. Then he went to the corral at the rear of the building and studied the animals in its confines. Neither of his friends’ horses stood among the half-dozen in the corral and Danny began to feel worried. Of course the two Rangers might be scouting the surrounding country, or working on some ranch—no, not the latter; the only ranch in the area belonged to Stella Howkins, who hired a man familiar with all the personnel of Company G. Danny decided that he had better start his search for the other two as soon as possible. One glance at the sky told him that the day had advanced too far for him to make a start before dark. Returning to the barn, he gripped his saddle by the horn and swung it on to his shoulder. A glance at the side door showed Danny that Bescaby watched him through its slightly open crack, but he made no attempt to resume the conversation. Plenty of time for that after he won the town’s confidence—and he knew the best method of doing so.

  On leaving the barn, Danny stood for a moment and looked along Main Street. He saw no sign of Stella or her men and did not expect any trouble until it became obvious that he came to Moondog in search of the first pair of Rangers. In his examination of the street, Danny noted that telegraph wires ran from the Wells Fargo office opposite the saloon. A comforting sight. At least he could make rapid contact with the outside world should it become necessary. Even if the operator happened, as Danny did not doubt, to be in Stella’s employ as well as drawing pay from the great freight outfit, the Ranger knew enough about handling a transmitting key to be able' to get his message out of Moondog.