The small wooden building on the outskirts of Tucson was neither large nor impressive; just a single story, four-room building behind a once white fence. At the back was a small storehouse and a corral with a few very good horses in it. A painted sign read, to the old woman who’d walked by twice and now halted there, ‘Arizona Rangers, Captain Bertram H. Mosehan.’
Hesitantly she pushed open the gate and walked up the path, pausing to look back nervously before she halted at the door. She braced herself and pushed open the door, walking into a small office. At a desk, trying to decipher a report written by a man who only very rarely held a pen, was a slim, handsome young man in his shirt sleeves.
He looked up and rose as the woman came towards him. ‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’ His accents were not those of the range. ‘Can I help you?’
‘I want to see Bertram Mosehan. Tell him Minnie Thornton is here; he’ll see me quick enough.’
Jed Peters was a young man with a keen memory and the name meant something to him. He turned and went to the door immediately behind his chair, knocked on it and entered.
‘I think we’ve got a break at last, Captain,’ he said, looking at Waco and Doc Leroy who were lounging at the side of the room. ‘Mrs. Thornton is outside.’
‘Fetch her in, Jed,’ Mosehan replied, then looked at the two Texans who were putting on their hats. ‘Stay and listen. It might be the chance we’ve been waiting for.’
Waco and Doc settled back again. They’d been brought in from their more usual area of operations up at Backsight in Coconino County to help on this serious and unfruitful chore in the south. Someone here was running the small freighting outfits out of business, making them pay protection money and gradually forcing them out. The Governor came to hear of this and assigned his Captain of Rangers to break the hold of the gang. So far without success, Mosehan and his two Tucson men, Glendon and Speed, tried to get a lead. None of the small freight outfits would talk or cooperate, being afraid of repercussions, so Mosehan brought in the two men who were rapidly becoming his tophands to help out.
He came up and crossed to greet the sturdy old woman in the black mourning clothes. “I am real sorry to hear about ole Dad, Aunt Minnie,’ he said, escorting her to a chair. ‘That’s why you’ve come to see me, isn’t it?’
‘It is. The local law can’t help us and I wouldn’t want Pinkertons on it. I heard you was head of the Arizona Rangers and came down here. You wanted someone to tell you who’s been driving all the small freighters out of business?’
‘We want somebody who’ll go into a witness box and say it,’ Mosehan replied.
‘And that’ll be me.’ Minnie Thornton’s voice was grim. ‘You know that two of their best men beat up Dad and he died through it. I was in bed ill at the time but I got out and saw them finishing off. I couldn’t even get downstairs for my shot gun to help them out. But I saw them and I’d recognize them again.’
‘Do you know their names, ma’am?’ Waco asked gently, seeing how the woman was fighting down her grief.
‘No, but I’d know them again. They were tall, heavy-built men and they was wearing dude clothes. I’d swear they wasn’t range men.’
‘Were they, either of them, the man who came to see you first?’ Mosehan asked. ‘We know how the game’s being run but not by whom.’
‘No, it wasn’t him. He was a dude like them, but smaller. Kinda dark skinned like he’d got Mex blood in him. They didn’t look like him at all. He came and saw me and Dad first, told us he wanted fifty dollars a week protection. We paid it.’
‘Freighters don’t usually scare that easy, ma’am,’ Doc put in.
‘He didn’t threaten Dad; it was me and our gal over in Bisbee they said they’d hurt. That was why Dad paid up. But that wasn’t the end of it. They came round and told us to fire all our old hands and take on their men. Dad wouldn’t do it. He got word to our gal and she went East for a vacation. I was in bed ill and they beat him up. Like I say, I only saw the end of it. They killed him.’
‘And that’s being done all over the south of the Territory,’ Mosehan explained. ‘Which is why I brought you two in. You’re not so well-known down here as Pete and Billy. The Governor’s heard about this game and wants to holler keno on it. It’s been going on a piece; the original owners tried to fight and they ended up in what looked like accidents. The freighters wouldn’t talk; every time it was the same, the protection bunch went for their kin, threatened to hurt their wives or daughters. A man’ll take chances with himself, but not with his family. So they were run out of business.’
‘Who buys the businesses up?’
‘Nobody so far. There is a big freight outfit called Carelli’s Freight Services putting a branch into each town. They operate cheaper than the small outfit that went out of business; start doing it as soon as the small bunch go out. They might be tied in with this gang or they might not. There’s no proof either way.’
‘They’ve just started operating in Tucson.’
The three Rangers looked at the old woman; it was Waco who asked, ‘How’d you know that, ma’am?’
‘I saw the man who came to see us first today. I was just going along to see young Hal Maxim and I saw him leaving their place. I kept out of sight until he’d gone, then went round to see Hal and his wife. They were scared and they wouldn’t talk about it at first. I tried to get them to come round and see you Rangers but they daren’t do it. Molly wanted Hal to, but he’s scared of what they’ll do to her. He said the man’d come round and told him to fire off all his men. The men are scared; things have happened to men who tried to stay on. They all wanted out.’
There was silence again. Mosehan lifted his feet on to his desk and looked at the roof, a sure sign he was thinking. Waco sat hand rolling a smoke, whistling a cattle song. Doc went to the window and looked out along the street, seeing a few women walking towards the center of town but nothing suspicious. The woman watched them without speaking. She knew that the Rangers would try to help her and was satisfied that they were going to take a hand.
Mosehan’s feet came down from the desk and he stood up. Waco knew his chief very well and looked up with a grin.
‘You got something, Cap’n Bert?’
‘I need a man who can handle his fists and isn’t scared to leave his guns off for a spell. It could be dangerous even though I’ll have him covered all the time.’
Doc turned from the window, eyes going to his handsome, wide-shouldered young friend and a smile on his face. ‘When do you start, boy?’ he asked.
~*~
The small, thin man in the town clothes pointed to the wagon standing in front of Maxim’s Freight Yard. A tall, blond young man was checking the wheels, a man with the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up, old blue jeans, high-heeled boots and no gun.
‘All right, Kagg, Bunt. That’s the one. Work him over, the rest have all quit. Make sure you scare any more that might come.’
‘All right,’ Kagg, the bigger and heavier of the pair replied. ‘What you going to do while we’re doing it?’
‘You know what I’m going to do,’ the small man answered. ‘I mustn’t be seen or connected with you at all.’
‘Can’t say I like it, Maiden,’ Bunt, the second man, growled. ‘If we’re caught who’ll get us out of it?’
‘You don’t have to get caught. You know as well as I do that Mr. Carelli will not get involved in this. He told you that you were on your own the whole time. He can’t afford to risk becoming involved with the other side.’
‘Carelli told us that,’ Kagg replied. ‘We don’t like it all that much.’
‘The pay’s good, don’t forget.’
‘That’s why we took on.’ Kagg watched the thin man. ‘We met Tull and Haufman down in Mexico and they told us about Carelli. They killed a man didn’t they?”
Maiden nodded. He looked around, not wishing to be seen with these two men; Carelli was strict on matters like that. The agent in the town was to act as contact man but never participate in any of the strong arm stuff. That was what this kind of man was hired to do. The agent must never allow himself to be seen with them and only came out when there was an emergency like this. The two new men did not know Tucson, and Maiden came to show them the Maxim Freight Yard, keeping to the backstreets. He wanted to get away before he was seen by someone.
‘They killed a man all right. Didn’t mean to but he was old and couldn’t stand the beating. So the boss told them to get out of the country. Sent them down to Tejanus with enough money to hold them until he needs them here again. When you’ve done this you head down there and wait with them. That way the law can’t touch you. They can’t follow you into Mexico.’
Maiden turned and hurried off. The other two let him get out of sight before they moved forward, making for the wagon and the young man who was working at it.
‘Hey you!’
Waco straightened up and turned round. The two men coming towards him wore range clothes and certainly were not eastern dudes. They were both almost as tall and heavier than him, yet he guessed guns would be their weapons and not fists.
‘Me?’ Waco’s voice was mild, his face showing no expression at all.
‘You,’ Kagg answered, moving nearer. ‘This ain’t a healthy company to work for?’
‘Why not?’
‘Accidents happen to folk who work for it, don’t they, Bunt?’
‘All the time, Kagg. All the time. You’d better quit, sonny, afore one happens to you.’
‘What sort of accident, gents?’
‘This sort!’
Kagg’s fist shot out, a savage punch powered by all his weight. If it had landed Waco would have been in bad shape, but, as he guessed, Kagg was more used to handling a gun than his fists. The punch was slow and telegraphed to Waco’s lightning-fast fighting impulses. His head moved aside, allowing the fist to whistle by his ear. The force of the swing brought Kagg forward, right on to Waco’s left fist which shot out and drove into flesh like a mule kick. Kagg grunted and doubled up; Waco’s knee came up, driven with all his strength to smash right into the man’s face; he felt the nose squash under the impact. Then Kagg stood erect, clutching at his injured nasal organ, and staggered back.
Before Bunt could recover from his surprise, Waco came in fast, his right shooting out and exploding on Bunt’s jaw. Bunt’s head rocked back, then a left and a right rocked it back and forwards so fast that the man did not know if he was coming or going. He staggered back and Waco came in with a right to the bristly jaw which laid Bunt down on the ground.
Kagg, snarling curses and holding his nose with his left hand, started to pull his gun with his right. He saw a slim, lithe shape leap from the wagon and land by the side of the tall, blond youngster. A White hand made a flickering movement and a gun was lined on Kagg. At the same moment the door of the office was thrown open and three men came out, all holding guns.
‘Rangers here, throw them high!’
It was a challenge that was meant to be obeyed. The two men were not from Arizona Territory but they knew that the Rangers never gave a challenge unless they expected to have it obeyed. Both Kagg and Bunt made their living by selling their guns to the highest bidder and they knew skilled gun hands when they saw them.
Kagg’s hand came from his gunbelt and lifted to join the other which was also raised. On the floor Bunt shook off his daze and saw the futility of trying to match guns with these four men all alert and ready. He pushed himself to his feet and raised his hands, standing by his partner and scowling.
Waco moved behind the two men, coming in and taking their guns from them. He did it fast and with such skill that neither was given any chance of making a move. Then he caught the two sets of handcuffs Mosehan threw to him. Reaching up he pulled Kagg’s arms down behind the big man’s back and snapped the handcuffs on. Pushing Kagg towards the waiting Rangers, Waco handcuffed Bunt in the same manner, then said, ‘We’ll get them down to the office by the back way.’
Mosehan nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll collect the witness after I’ve thanked Hal and his wife.’
He went into the office where a man and a woman sat behind the desk. ‘We got them both. From now until we’ve broke this thing Pete and Billy will stay with you all the time. I’ve got two more men coming in today to help me out and I can spare both Pete and Billy.’
Hal Maxim looked up, some of the anxiety leaving his face. ‘I shouldn’t be taking your men. I can—’
‘You and Mrs. Thornton’s our witnesses. We get three of you to testify and a lot of others will stand up and say their piece too. I’m leaving two men to watch you. Just do what they say and everything will be all right.’
The young woman got up and came round the desk. ‘Hal wanted to come to you right away. But they said they’d hurt me if he did and Hal wouldn’t risk it.’
‘I know that, it’s the way this kind work. They go for the women because they know they can’t frighten the men any other way. Don’t worry, we’ll get them.’
Mosehan returned to his headquarters, going into his office after seeing Mrs. Thornton, who was using the living room at the back. He gave her certain instructions and although she did not quite understand why she was to do the thing asked, she was willing to carry on and do it.
In the office Kagg and Bunt stood against the wall, sullen, brooding looks on their faces. Waco and Doc were seated at the desk and Jed Peters, notebook in hand, stood at the side of the door.
‘What do we charge these two with, Captain?’ he asked. ‘Assault, attempted murder and murder.’
It took a couple of seconds for the words to sink into the not over bright minds of Kagg and Bunt. Then they realized what Mosehan had said.
‘Murder?’ Bunt yelped like a bee stung dog.
‘What murder?’ Kagg’s voice was pitched high.
‘Dad Thornton over Ysaleta way.’
Kagg and Bunt looked at each other, relief showing plainly on their faces. That murder was one crime they definitely were not connected with.
‘You reckon you can make it stick?’ Kagg asked triumphantly.
‘Got us a witness, friend,’ Waco replied. ‘She saw the two men and can identify them. If she recognizes you, reckon we’ll make her stick.”
The two men sat at the desk, in the chairs where Waco put them, watching the door. Neither of them expected the woman to identify them; they were grinning at each other and waiting for the shock the Rangers were going to get. The other charge of attempted assault did not unduly worry them, for they felt that a good lawyer could get them out of it with no trouble.
The door opened and Mosehan came in with the old woman. Mrs. Thornton looked at Kagg and Bunt for a time, the grins dying from their faces and worry replacing them as the old woman looked them over.
‘It’s them all right, Captain,’ she finally said.
‘She’s lying!’ Kagg screamed and came to his feet.
Waco put a hand over the man’s face and shoved him back down into his seat, then turned to the old woman who stood by Mosehan’s side. ‘You sure of that, ma’am?’
‘Sure enough. I told you what the two looked like, except for the clothes these two are the same size.’
Before either Kagg or Bunt could make a sound of protest, Mrs. Thornton was let out of the room and Mosehan looked the two men over. He did not speak for a moment, then said, ‘That closes it for us.’ ,
‘I tell you we never done the killing,’ Kagg howled. ‘She’s made a mistake. We weren’t in Arizona when the killing was done.’
‘How do you know?’ Doc’s words cut across like a whip.
‘We know the men who killed the old-timer. We met them down there and they told us when they done it,’ Kagg looked at the unsmiling faces, reading their disbelief. He stared wildly at Bunt, trying to remember exactly where they’d been when the killing took place, and failing.
‘Who hired you?’ Waco snapped.
Once more Kagg and Bunt looked at each other, remembering what Carelli had told them when he hired them. He’d warned them that any attempt at bringing him into it would end in failure. He’d promised that he would get them a good lawyer if they did get into trouble, but only if they kept him out of it.
~*~
‘We was only having a joke with the Ranger,’ Bunt answered.
‘All right, then we’ll take you to Ysaleta for trial,’ Mosehan answered.
‘Surely hope it gets to a trial. Folks liked ole Dad down there. They likely will want the men who did it hanging from a tree without bothering with a trial.’
‘I tell you we didn’t kill the old-timer,’ Kagg roared. ‘I want a lawyer.’
‘You can have one at Ysaleta, not before,” Mosehan answered. ‘You’ve been identified as the killer and that’s good enough for me. I’ll have you sent there in the morning.’
Waco moved nearer the table. ‘You know, Cap’n, there might be something in what they say. Why’d whoever hired them take them on. They looked like the two men who did the killing. Their boss knows that, sends them here to Tucson because he knows we’ll be watching and pick them up. He figgers that we’ll take them to Ysaleta for trial and knows the mob will get them. Knows us and the local law won’t face down and kill honest men to save the two who murdered Dad Thornton. So this pair get lynched and he can fetch his other boys back.’
Kagg and Bunt’s eyes met; they could see now it was pointed out to them that the young Ranger might be right. Both knew that Carelli took them on without knowing a thing about them and in something of a hurry. Now they could see there might be another motive than just needing two musclemen to carry on for Tull and Haufman who were lying low in Mexico.
‘The lousy skunk,’ Bunt snarled. ‘The dirty, scent-smelling greaser.’
‘Yeah!’ Kagg looked at the Rangers. ‘I’m not getting hung for him. The man you want is Carelli. You know, he runs that new freight outfit that’s coming up so fast. Maiden, his agent here, was the man we were told to report to. He took us and pointed you out to us. He must have known who you was and set us up.’
‘Could have at that,’ Waco agreed, then looked at Mosehan. ‘Do we take the said Mr. Maiden?’
‘Go get him, Doc. Take Billy Speed and leave him to watch that no one sends a message off to Carelli. You two want to make a statement, talk ahead and Jed here can take it down.’
By the time Maiden was collected and brought to Ranger headquarters, Kagg and Bunt had told all they knew, putting it down in the statement and signing it. They looked up with glowering eyes at the thin man as he was escorted into the room by Doc Leroy. Maiden’s face was a dead giveaway as he stared at the two men, then he managed to get hold of himself and asked:
‘What did you want to see me about, Captain Mosehan?’
‘These men say you can clear them on a murder charge.’
‘I never saw them before in my life. I don’t know them and I don’t know a thing about Dad Thornton’s killing.’
‘Who said anything about Dad Thornton?’ Waco snapped.
‘I-I-I-’ Maiden stared at the men, realizing he’d made a bad slip. ‘I never saw these two men before in my life.’
‘They said you could clear them of a murder charge, friend,’ Waco put in. ‘How about it, why’d they mention you?’
‘I don’t know why,’ Maiden stared round at the men again; he was getting panicky, for he’d never expected to be caught in this business. ‘I want to see my lawyer. This is an outrage.’
‘Why’d you want a lawyer?’ Mosehan asked. ‘We haven’t charged you with anything yet.’
Waco turned to Kagg and Bunt. ‘Sorry, gents. Looks like we’ll have to take you to Ysaleta after all, this gent hasn’t cleared you.’
Kagg lunged forward, his foot driving up at Maiden. At the same moment Bunt charged forward, his shoulder smashing into the thin man and knocking him backwards. Waco grabbed Kagg by the shirt collar and heaved him backwards, while Mosehan pushed Bunt to one side.
With a snarl that was half fear, half terror, Maiden sent his arm under his coat and brought out a short-barreled Colt Storekeeper revolver. Doc Leroy’s ivory-butted Colt came out and smashed down on to the man’s gun arm hard. With a moan of agony Maiden let the gun fall and clutched at his injured arm, going to his knees.
‘All right,’ Mosehan snapped. ‘We’re holding you on a charge of attempted murder, Maiden. Put the prisoners in the cells out back.’
‘Only got one spare cell, Cap’n,’ Waco remarked cheerfully. ‘I’ll take the handcuffs off these two and put them in; Doc bring the other one.’
Maiden realized what was being said; he also realized how he would be situated, locked in a cell with those two men whose life he held in his hands. They would get the truth out of him one way or another. He suspected that the Rangers were going to let Kagg and Bunt do just that and knew that his only chance was to talk and talk fast.
‘All right, all right,’ he gasped. ‘I’ll talk, I’ll make a statement and sign it. Just don’t lock me with these two. They didn’t kill Dad Thornton.’
Half an hour later the telegraph wires began to sing and in a dozen towns the local law moved fast. The orders came, not from the Arizona Rangers, but from the Governor of the Territory himself. The agent of Carelli’s Freight Services in each town was arrested and held incommunicado; the men who worked for the company kept away from telegraph offices. Other law enforcement officers went round the various ruined freight owners and with guarantees of protection obtained full particulars of the men who’d scared or put them out of business.
In Tucson, Mosehan, Federal Judge Carmody and the Governor’s legal staff were kept very busy sifting the information which came in to them. It was noon the following day before Mosehan called in Waco, Doc Leroy, Pete Glendon and Billy Speed.
‘Go to Calverton, that’s the head office of the Carelli Freight Services.’
‘Sure, Cap’n,’ Waco answered. ‘Then what?’
‘Arrest Carelli, Dodd and Spencer, they run the company and they’re the ones we want. The Governor’ll indemnify you against any measures you take in the arrest He wants them and he wants them bad.’
~*~
Luigi Carelli was at peace with the world as he ushered his guests from the room and watched the cream of Calverton society walking along the hotel passage. Then he shut the door and went back to the table. Carelli was a short, fat Italian, dressed to the height of good taste and latest fashion of the East. Dodd, his second in command, was a big, burly man, always talking loud and making jokes. He was the mixer, the man who raised goodwill amongst the menfolk by heartiness and a hand which willingly shot out to pick up the check when in company. Spencer, the third partner, was smaller, a sober-looking man who attended church regularly, three times every Sunday, and was always on hand when the reverend held out his palm for donations. It was Spencer who kept the ladies of the town in hand, they pointed him out and held him up as a shining example of the ideal man.
Each of the trio had his part to play. Carelli was the shrewd business head of the organization. Circumstances, including the New York police, sent him west to what proved to be a land of milk and honey. He’d brought his two partners with him and they picked on the freight business as being the one which would afford them the best chance. The first step was to establish themselves in Calverton, to make friends with the people who counted, the banker, the county sheriff, the richer merchants. By careful working the three were now regarded as being the most desirable of citizens and a stranger who might have passed a disparaging remark about them would be likely to wind up in jail.
The door closed and from the bedroom where he’d been waiting came a dark, swarthy man, dressed in clothes more suited to New York’s tough East Side than here in Arizona Territory. Under his arm he carried a saddle pouch; this he put on the table and opened it.
‘How’s it going, Toni?’ Carelli asked.
‘Not bad, boss. We got another tough one on our hands, over Bisbee way. He ain’t got no family and he’s real tough.’
‘Fix him.’
‘No killing, Fascati!’ Dodd warned. ‘We don’t want any more killing if we can help it. Get those two new men on it, work him over or burn his place.’
Spencer, the legal mind of the trio, looked at the pouch and said the same thing he’d said many times before.
‘I don’t like the idea of Fascati bringing that pouch here. There’s enough in it to get us all in jail for the rest of our lives.’
‘Don’t worry, Albert,’ Carelli answered. ‘Nobody knows we’re connected with Toni here. In this town they’d never believe anything bad about us. Why if we were arrested I bet those bunch who just left would write to the Governor and demand we were let loose.’
‘I know, but it seems foolish to take such a chance Spencer protested feebly, watching Fascati spread out on the table enough evidence to send them all to Yuma, a far less pleasant place than any prison they’d been in back East.
The door burst open and two men came in, guns in hand.
‘Rangers here, throw them high!’
Carelli, Dodd and Spencer were seated, Fascati standing with his back to the door. Not one of them had the time or the opportunity to do anything and only Fascati was armed. He twisted round, hand going up under his arm in the misguided belief that his speed on the draw could beat the guns in the hands of those two tall, young Texas men. Like most of his kind, he regarded the Western lawmen as untrained, unintelligent country hicks, easily fooled and an easy mark. His gun skill was famous in New York against his opponents, the New York police, who in those days relied far more on the nightstick than the gun and were far from being efficient and well-trained performers. Fascati was fast by New York standards; but Calverton, Arizona, was not New York and went by a different standard.
Even with his guns in leather Waco could have beaten Fascati to the shot, with them out he could find time to pick his mark and sent a .45 bullet through the dude’s shoulder. The force of the bullet, powered by thirty grains of prime Dupont powder, sent shock waves ripping through him and dropped him to the ground, his gun sliding from his hand.
‘Freeze all of you!’ Waco snapped. ‘We’re Arizona Rangers.’
‘What do you want?’ Carelli had a very low opinion of the abilities and morals of Western lawmen and these two looked even younger than most.
‘We’ve a warrant for your arrest on charges of extortion, accessory before and after murder,’ Doc replied. He could hear doors opening and people running towards the room.
Spencer stared at the buff-colored paper Doc Leroy held out, knowing all too well what it was. He looked down at the papers on the desk and his face paled, knowing that they were caught well and truly.
Dodd suddenly roared. ‘Hold up in here!’ and dived for the gun on the floor.
Waco’s left-hand Colt crashed out, the bullet hitting the revolver and knocking it from under Dodd’s hand. The man crashed to the floor and lay there, hand outstretched, waiting for a bullet to strike him.
The footsteps halted in the hall, none of the people who’d come out of the rooms making any attempt to come in. They were halted by two hard-faced, unsmiling men who informed them, from behind lined guns, that this was not a hold-up but that the Arizona Rangers were making an arrest.
For a moment Carelli was silent; the sudden arrival of the two Rangers and the casual, easy way they’d handled Fascati, whom Carelli regarded as being very good with a gun, unnerved him. He was, for once, taken by surprise and off balance. Dodd’s failure to get assistance did not help Carelli to assess his position any better. He knew that these men were not local law and knew they wielded considerably more power than either the county sheriff or the town marshal.
‘How much money do you boys make a month?’ he asked.
‘Enough,’ Waco replied. ‘Doc, get Pete in here and collect all those papers on the table.’
Carelli and his two partners were forced back against the wall; Pete Glendon and Billy Speed came in, handcuffs were clipped on and the incriminating papers collected. They were doing this when someone knocked hard on the door and a voice roared:
‘Open up. Sheriff here.’
Waco opened the door and the sheriff came in, face flushed with the exertion of running back to the hotel after the meal Carelli had laid out before him and his fellow citizens. He came in, two deputies at his back, followed by the town marshal who was also red-faced and puffing hard.
‘What’s all this?’ he asked.
Waco holstered his guns and held out the warrant without a word. The sheriff read the warrant through, then handed it to the town marshal.
‘There’s been a mistake somewhere,’ he snapped. ‘Release Mr. Carelli.’
‘Sure, as soon as he’s safe in a cell,’ Waco replied.
‘Not in my jail,’ the marshal snapped. ‘I ain’t having you Rangers coming into my town and—’
‘Take a look at this, friend,’ Waco answered, holding out a letter.
The marshal took the letter, glanced at the printed heading, then gulped and read the writing underneath.
‘This is from the Governor,’ he finally said.
‘Sure, asking for full co-operation from the County Sheriff and Town Marshal,’ Waco answered. ‘What was you saying?’
The town marshal scowled, being awkward with the Arizona Rangers was not a safe game to play at any time. When they bore a letter from the Governor asking that every assistance and facility be given to the said Rangers it was like patting a teased-up and riled rattler.
‘This’s a misunderstanding, Mr. Carelli,’ the sheriff remarked. ‘I’m afraid that our hands are tied and that you must come down to the jail for the night. I think that tomorrow Judge Foulsham will sort it out for you.’
Waco smiled as he watched Doc Leroy attending to Fascati’s shoulder. If the sheriff and Carelli expected any help from the local judge they were going to get a real big, bad shock in the morning.
~*~
‘This is an outrage, a deliberate outrage and I will not let the matter rest here. I’m not without friends in the Territorial Capitol I might add.’
Mosehan looked at the fat, pompous and well-dressed banker, then at the group of influential citizens grouped round the table of the jail. It was the morning after the arrest, and the town of Calverton was in a state of righteous indignation. The Arizona Rangers were in town, had arrested three of the most respected and prominent citizens and were holding them at the jail. This deputation, led by the banker, was making its second appearance at the jail. The first was not very fruitful for they’d been met at the door by a brusque, drawling young Texas man who refused to release his prisoners or allow anyone to talk with them until his boss, Captain Bertram H. Mosehan, arrived.
The deputation next went to see sheriff, town marshal and judge, but this trio, having conferred the previous night, was not available. The Judge was out making his circuit, the sheriff left to assess taxes at the far end of the county and the town marshal took to his bed with a severe attack of the gripe.
‘We came along earlier this morning to order the release of Mr. Carelli and your man was insulting to us,’ the owner of the largest store in town went on.
Mosehan hid a grin. He could imagine Waco would be insulting to anyone who tried to take a prisoner from him. The quartet of Rangers here were the tophands of his force and would not allow or submit to anyone taking prisoners from them.
‘I heard from my men that you threatened to have them taken from the Rangers,’ he snapped. ‘I hire and fire the Rangers and I don’t fire them for obeying my orders. I told them to come here, arrest Carelli, Dodd and Spencer. If you’ve any objections make them to me.’
Smethurst, the banker’s face turned redder than ever. He was used to respect in large portions from the members of the local law. He started to splutter then cooled down and snapped: ‘I demand that Mr. Carelli is tried as soon as possible, that way he can clear his name. Will you send one of your men after the judge?’
A tall, slim man stepped from the side door, a man wearing an expensive black suit and with a low-tied gun at his side.
‘That won’t be necessary, I will be judging the case.’ Smethurst looked at the man, thinking he looked like a very successful professional gambler, or an undertaker from a trail-end town. ‘May I ask who you are?’ the banker inquired, very much on his dignity.
‘The name is Carmody. I’m the Federal Judge for Arizona Territory. Extortion is a Federal offence. I’ll hold the trial tomorrow at noon.’
Carelli was standing at the front of his cell, listening to all this. He knew what his chances were if this ever came to a trial and did not like the odds. There was only one slight chance for him.
‘How about bail?’ he asked.
‘Bail?’ Carmody turned and looked at the man, listening to the mumble of agreement from the good citizens. He knew that if bail was granted there was little or no chance of the trial ever taking place, for the Mexican border was only two hours steady buckboard drive away. He also realized that a refusal to agree with the bail offer would weaken the already precarious position of the Rangers in this town and would certainly lead to any jury in the town giving a verdict of not guilty, no matter how strong the evidence.
‘All right, gentlemen,’ Carmody looked at the three prisoners. ‘But in view of the seriousness of the offence I cannot accept a bond of less than seven thousand dollars. Each.’
For a moment Carelli was silent; seven thousand dollars was about all the money he could lay his hands on at the moment. He knew his two partners were not so self-sacrificing that they would let him use that money as bail for himself while they remained in prison. They trusted him, but not that much. His eyes went first to the impassive, unsmiling Rangers and the Federal Judge, but there was no chance of getting anything from them. Then he looked at the citizens of the town.
‘I can’t manage anywhere near that much,’ he said. ‘My business was only just getting started and my overheads were high.’
Smethurst and the other men looked at each other, then went into a huddle. The merchants of the crowd were getting their goods delivered at less than the standard rate by Carelli, and they liked this. The words, ‘outrage’, ‘outstanding citizens’, and ‘must help’, came through repeated with regularity. Carelli winked at his two partners who were now looking more relieved.
Then at last the banker turned. He looked Judge Carmody up and down, gave the Rangers a scowl and finally said, ‘If you’ll allow, Mr. Carelli, we, your friends, would like the honor of paying your bail.’
‘You realize that if the bondees do not appear in court you forfeit the money, Mr. Smethurst?’ Carmody asked.
‘Of course I do. I also realize that there is no danger of that happening. Mr. Carelli and his two partners are first-class citizens of our town. We trust them implicitly. Don’t we gentlemen?’
There was a chorus of agreement at this and the good citizens stood waiting for Carelli to be released. However, Carmody did not give the order and at last they realized that this was a delivery on payment affair so trooped off to collect the money.
Mosehan watched the men go, then turned to Billy Speed, ‘I got word to Colonel Kosterliski. there should be a couple of Rurales waiting at the border, by the trail. Head down and check. If there isn’t, find Don Emilo and give him this message.’
Billy Speed listened to the message, a grin on his face; he left the office and afork his fast running horse headed south along the border trail.
Carmody had seen this happen but was not sure just what it meant. He followed Mosehan and his Rangers into the side room and sat at the desk. Waco, Doc and Glendon looked at the leader, waiting for him to speak.
‘You look disappointed, Bert,’ Carmody said.
‘Only with the folks here. Look at the way they’re acting. Anybody would think my boys were the crooks.’
‘I couldn’t refuse bail.’
‘I know. You know they’ll light out.’
Carmody nodded, he was sure that the three men did not intend to appear for the trial. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘Was that why you warned the fine public-spirited citizens they’d lose their money?’ Waco asked.
‘It was.’
‘They’ll lose it, too. That bunch will light out come night. I reckon they’ll be gone by midnight.’
‘They’ll head for the border,’ Doc remarked mildly. ‘Out of the United States and into Mexico.’
‘Reckon they’ll stick to the main trail?’ Waco inquired. Mosehan looked at the young Texan. There were times when he was sure Waco could read his mind. This was one of the times and Mosehan knew that at least one man guessed what he planned to do.
‘Don’t you?’
‘Sure, they’re dudes and they don’t travel much. I reckon they’ll take their chance on a fast run for the border on a regular trail, rather than going across country.’
Carmody looked from one to the other. He’d a lot of faith in Mosehan’s capabilities and almost as much in the tall, handsome young Texas boy called Waco. He got the feeling that somehow he’d lost the drift of the conversation, and in this he was not alone, for Doc Leroy and Glendon were looking puzzled.
‘What are you two getting at?’ the Judge asked.
‘Just talking about what Carelli and his pards would do if they jumped their bail and lit out,’ Mosehan replied. ‘Which same they don’t do, of course, being such pillars of the community.’
‘What do you aim to do to stop it?’ Carmody asked.
‘Nothing,’ Mosehan’s voice was mild. ‘These folks would surely raise a scream if my boys followed Carelli and his bunch: so they aren’t going to follow them. The folks’ll be real pleased.’
‘It would be a big loss if they did break their bond.’
‘The man who put the money up can stand it. Carelli may stand his trial, I don’t know.’
‘But I’d surely bet he doesn’t,’ Waco finished.
The deputation of citizens arrived back with the money for Carelli’s bond. They stood by while Judge Carmody counted the notes out and made out a receipt, then to cheers from the crowd outside Carelli, Dodd and Spencer were released.
Carelli stopped at the desk. ‘I want to say that I hold no hard feelings against the Rangers, they were only doing their job. Mr. Fascati should not have tried to draw his gun although I think he thought it was a hold-up.’
The townsmen who were present felt proud of their fellow citizen. He’d been arrested and accused of the Lord only knew what heinous crimes and yet he did not bear the men who arrested him any grudge.
The Calverton Clarion came out with a full page editorial condemning the Rangers and demanding an investigation into their methods of operation. The paper was bought out within half-an-hour of publication and the editor decided that he might as well cash in while the boom lasted; so he ran a second edition With substantially the same things in it, but with the added statement that Carelli was the victim of his unscrupulous rivals who’d planted the evidence against him and used the Rangers as their dupes.
Next, the editor went to see Carelli and kept him busy giving a false but highly complementary story of his life, and how he rose from the poor class in the New York slums to attain his present position in the world. Carelli gave the information although he would much rather have been left to himself and spent the time in getting ready for heading south across the border at midnight.
The next sensation came when the town received news that the Governor himself was coming here. He was on a tour and making a one-night stop at Calverton; this made it awkward for certain of the bail bondsmen as they meant to watch Carelli until trial time. Not, of course, that they did not trust him, but the unscrupulous rivals might kidnap him and get him out of town.
‘Man’d say we weren’t popular, Cap’n Bert,’ Waco remarked after reading the third edition of the Calverton Clarion. ‘Wonder what they’ll be saying tomorrow?’
Before Mosehan could reply, the jail door opened and Billy Speed came in, a grin on his face that told Mosehan all was well, even before the Ranger gave the news that he’d met Colonel Emilo Kosterliski of the Rurales at the border and all was in hand.
Mosehan sat back in his chair, a look of satisfaction on his face. Carelli was smart, real smart; he’d made this town think he was a benefactor and a real desirable citizen. He’d got everything in his favor here but it was all going to be useless because he did not know of a certain arrangement between Mosehan and Colonel Emilo Kosterliski.
When the Governor arrived, shortly after dark, he was met with a deputation of the leading citizens of the town but took the wind out of their sails right off by introducing Mosehan to them as his friend. He also refused to hear any suggestion that he should intercede on behalf of Carelli.
The influential citizens of the town congregated at the hotel for a dinner and an informal get-together which went on late. Carelli and his two partners made a brief appearance but then left with the excuse that they wanted an early night. The banker watched them go and then once more tried to influence the Governor and Mosehan in favor of Carelli.
~*~
Smethurst went along to the hotel to see Carelli early the following morning, and was given the disquieting news that the three men had gone out at midnight and not returned. So Smethurst headed for the Carelli Freight Service depot. The door of the office was thrown open, the safe door standing ajar. Over the floor and scattered about were papers, while in the stove smoked the charred ash of more paper. He frowned as he looked around, then a shadow fell across the floor and he turned to find the tall, blond, handsome young Texan standing in the door.
“You’re too late, friend,’ he said.
‘What do you mean, my good man?’ Smethurst snapped. He did not like this Arizona Ranger, who after all was only a public servant, nor the way he talked to his betters. He did not show any of the respect Smethurst thought he deserved.
‘They’ve gone, friend, gone like the wind. Took their buggy and lit out. I surely hopes they get back in time for the trial.’
For the moment Smethurst looked at the tall young Texan, then around the disordered room. Slowly it sank into his mind what had happened. His face lost all its color as he thought of the seven thousand he’d personally put up as part of the bond money; if Carelli and the other two were not here for the trial, the money would be forfeit.
‘Are you sure they’ve gone?’ he asked hoarsely.
‘Sure enough, friend,’ Waco felt an inner glow of delight now and knew that the good citizens of Calverton were going to regret the way they’d treated the men of the Arizona Rangers. ‘I came down here to check up on them this morning. The old gent who was their watchman told me he’d seen them take the buggy and pull out at midnight, headed down the south trail.’
‘The south trail!’ Smethurst’s voice rose to a strangled scream, ‘but that leads into Mexico.’
‘Never thought it led to Canada,’ Waco answered. ‘I’d best go back and report to Cap’n Bert.’
The words fell on deaf ears as Smethurst turned and headed out of the room fast. He made for the bank and sent hurried messages to all the other men who were Carelli’s bondees. They gathered fast and the news they heard brought them on the run to the hotel where they asked for, and were granted, an interview with the Governor.
‘I’m sorry, gentlemen,’ the Governor looked at the men, seeing the guilt in their faces. ‘You understand that when you stood bail bond for Carelli, Dodd and Spencer you would forfeit your money if they did not show up for the trial?’
‘We did, but-but-er—’ Smethurst floundered off, at a loss to explain to the man who’d formed them that he thought the Rangers were working for one of Carelli’s business rivals.
‘I can’t change the law any, gentlemen, you realize that. If Carelli is in court all will be well and your faith in him will be justified.’
‘He’s gone into Mexico,’ a man croaked. ‘He doesn’t mean to come back.’
‘We don’t know that for sure, yet.’ The Governor felt an unholy joy as he watched these men. ‘You were so sure of his innocence.’
Smethurst could see that the Governor was not in favor of their attitude to the Rangers. He also knew that he was going to eat crow. ‘Couldn’t the Rangers get them back for us?’ he asked. ‘We would give an ample reward.’
‘If the men are in Mexico my men are helpless.’ The Governor knew full well that between Bertram Mosehan and Emilo Kosterliski of the Rurales was a strictly unofficial arrangement whereby members of the Rangers or the Guardia Rurale could either cross the line and pick up their nationals who’d slipped to the safety of the other side, or call on members of the other force to do it. This, however, was not an official agreement and nothing could be said of it in public. He also knew that Carelli and his partners had been under observation from the moment they climbed into the buggy and headed south. At the border two members of the Guardia Rurale took over the following, with orders that if Carelli and his men did not stop at Tejanus, a few miles south of the line, they were to be arrested on some charge or other and held.
With that cold comfort Smethurst and his men had to be satisfied. They could see that they’d brought it all on themselves and there was much recrimination among them as to who was to blame.
The Governor sat back in his chair after the door had closed on the deputation and then smiled. From the bedroom where he’d gone at the first sign of the arrival of Calverton’s good citizens, Mosehan strode.
‘Well, Bert?’ the Governor asked. ‘Do you know where they are?’
‘In Tejanus most likely. If not they’ll be held; Kosterliski’s men never fail to obey him.’
‘Can you get them back again?’
‘Not in time for the trial,’ Mosehan replied, ‘and I’m not sure I would if I could. I don’t like the way folks in this damned town have been treating my boys.’
‘That’s a damned immoral outlook, Bert,’ the Governor answered, the twinkle in his eyes belying the serious tone he used. ‘Unofficially I heartily approve of it. Officially I must ask you to try to get them back. I won’t ask questions about how they come back.’
‘Will Judge Carmody delay the trial?’ Mosehan glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘There’s no chance of them being brought back before trial time.’
‘We’ll see about it. Now get your savages moving.’ Mosehan smiled, reached for his hat and walked towards the door.
‘They left as soon as Waco reported to me this morning.’
~*~
Carelli and his partners were not used to the rigors of hunted men and were dog tired when they reached the town of Tejanus in the early hours of the morning. This caused them to head right for bed at the cantina and when they got up again it was well past noon.
In that cantina they found their two men, Tull and Haufman, a pair of big, hard-looking dudes wearing loud check suits and derby hats. The two men showed some surprise at seeing Carelli here and came to their table fast.
‘Something wrong, boss?’ Tull asked.
‘We’re in bad trouble,’ Carelli answered. ‘The law got on to us and we only got out of town in time.’
‘What you going to do now?’ Tull growled.
‘Stay here for a couple of days and see how things go north of the line. I don’t think it’ll cool down any, so we’ll make arrangements to sell out the company then head back East again.’
The door of the cantina opened and the two tall, young Texas men came in. Carelli stared at them, anger on his face. ‘Those two,’ he hissed. ‘They’re the Rangers who arrested us.’
Dodd nodded, then he snapped. ‘They can't touch us down here.’
Carelli knew this without being told, and could see a chance of getting his revenge on the two men. He glanced at Tull and Haufman, then jerked his head to the bar.
Tull came to his feet and lurched forwards across the room; Haufman moved to one side, eyes on the tall handsome boy with the matched brace of guns. He did not give Doc Leroy a second glance, thinking the slim young man would be easy meat.
Waco and Doc stood at the bar, backs to Carelli and his two partners. If they noticed Tull and Haufman they ignored them, ordering their drinks and leaning on the bar, glancing up at the mirror.
Tull halted behind Waco, hand shooting up under his arm and bringing out the short-barreled gun from his shoulder clip. At the same instant the room broke into wild and sudden activity. Haufman started to whip out his gun to drop Doc Leroy and at the bar two men went into lightning fast and very effective action.
Waco and Doc came round from the bar, spinning like tops and halting, hands already bringing out guns; faster even then Waco, Doc Leroy’s ivory-handled gun was crashing and throwing the bullet into Haufman. In echo to the sound, Waco’s Colts made a double crash; Tull, caught in the body by the two heavy bullets, was thrown backwards off his feet.
Carelli, Dodd and Spencer rose, staring at the two young Rangers who had once more proved the superiority of western gun savvy against New York skill.
‘All right, Carelli, we’ve come for you,’ Waco said.
‘This is Mexico, you can’t do that to us,’ Carelli replied, a mocking smile on his face. ‘It’s against international law.’
The door of the cantina opened and a tall, hard-faced man stepped in. He wore a grey uniform and on his high-crowned sombrero was the Mexican eagle and snake badge of the Guardia Rurale. He raised a hand to stroke the neat beard on his chin and looked Carelli and his two men over.
‘I am Colonel Emilo Kosterliski of the Guardia Rurale.’ he announced, his voice the hard clipped and incisive tones of a disciplined martinet, long accustomed to being obeyed instantly. ‘Have you any passport?’
Carelli shook his head. He was losing some of his color. ‘No, but I can—’
‘Sergeant!’ Kosterliski shouted and the room was swarming with grey uniformed Rurales. ‘Escort these three men back to the border and see they go across.’
The ride back to the border was silent and uneventful. Carelli and his two partners were not fools; they knew that they’d fallen into a carefully laid trap. The men in Calverton who’d been their friends, and all for them, would no longer regard them in the same light. They’d lost what might have been a valuable asset in their flight, for they knew Smethurst and the other men would never forgive them for losing the twenty-one thousand dollar bond.
At the rear, riding behind the buggy which carried the bodies of the two killers, Waco and Doc were more than satisfied. They’d done what they came here to do and had helped bring to an end a vicious crooked business.
At the border Mosehan greeted Kosterliski, then gave his attention to the two young Rangers. ‘How’d it go?’
‘Like a stampeded herd,’ Waco replied. ‘We couldn’t get the two killers alive but we brought them back.’
‘You know something, Cap’n Bert?’ Doc asked.
‘What?’
‘I don’t reckon anybody in Calverton’ll be going bail for these three this time.’