Brad Kinross stood at one side of the body and looked at his friend and fellow Ranger, Waco.
‘I killed him. You’d better take me in.’
Waco looked down at the body again. The dead man had been very handsome in life, his features the sort which would turn the heads of women anywhere. He wore the uniform of a cavalry captain, the cut of it showing that he was a man with enough money of his own to be able to afford better than the issue clothing of the Army. The bullet which killed him had struck in his right breast and emerged just over his left hip, tearing a big, gaping hole.
For a moment Waco looked down at the still form on the floor, then at the gate in the picket fence around the Kinross house, over the neat flower garden to the house itself. Then he looked along the dusty backstreet they stood in to where a bunch of men were coming this way. Lastly his eyes went up the slope on the other side of the street; on top of that slope was the open range country, mile after mile of grazing land.
The young Texan turned again as the men surged forward, going to his big paint stallion and removing the rope from the saddlehorn. He flipped the noose over one of the picket fence uprights and drew it tight, then turned and spoke to the men as they crowded forward.
‘Hold it back there, gents.’
The crowd slowed down. They did not know who this tall young Texan man was, but he looked capable of backing any request he made right up to the hilt. In every crowd there was one who couldn’t take a gentle hint and needed to be shown: here it was a big, heavy-looking man wearing a store suit.
‘Who do you think you are?’ he growled and started to move towards the rope.
‘The name’s Waco, mister. I’m an Arizona Ranger and I don’t want folks tromping the sign round that body. All of you keep back until the local law arrives and sees everything.’
‘Yeah?’ The big man started to lift his foot to advance. The foot froze in midair.
Waco’s right-hand gun was in his hand, brought out with a sight-defying speed that told he was a good man with a gun, a man who could not be bluffed or scared by anyone.
‘Yeah. Like I said, you stand back. Two of you gents can help me hang this rope around here. Use them two poles in the garden. One of you go and ask the town marshal to come.’
The men obeyed, but the big man continued to stand, looking at the body, then he asked. ‘You kill him like you said you would, Brad?’
Before any answer could be made to this, reinforcements to the Ranger group arrived in the shape of Waco’s partner, Doc Leroy, and two more members of the force, Pete Glendon and Billy Speed. Doc stepped over the rope and crossed to bend over and examine the body. Glendon and Billy Speed helped erect the rope in a rough square around the area. Doc looked at the holes in the soldier’s body, then glanced at a hole low in the gate support. He looked up at Waco, and the blond youngster nodded, showing he’d seen and read the message here.
‘Tell it, Brad,’ Waco ordered.
‘Nothing to tell. I killed him.’
‘There’s more to it than that,’ Waco snapped. ‘You aren’t a killer. Is Sarah to home?’
‘No, she’s left. I saw her getting on a stage, looked in a hurry,’ Doc replied before Kinross could speak.
‘She didn’t have a thing to do with it!’ Kinross spoke hurriedly. ‘I killed him. Can’t you understand that?’
‘When did you kill him?’ Doc asked.
‘Just before Waco came up. I was looking down at him when Waco got here.’
For a moment Doc looked as if he was going to say something, then catching a sign from Waco shut his mouth. Waco looked at the crowd of men standing on the other side of the rope, then he said, ‘Pete, take Brad’s guns. He’s your prisoner. Hold him while I send word to Cap’n Bert. Hold him at the house.’
At that moment three more Rangers arrived; Waco felt relieved when he saw them, for what he aimed to do would not meet with the approval of the local law.
‘Ken,’ he said to one of the men. ‘Go get that photographer, ask him to take pictures of the body from all sides. I want them ready as soon as possible. When he’s done it, Dick, you and Sam get the body to the undertaker’s and bring me the jacket back here.’
The other men accepted Waco’s orders without question. In the Rangers there was only one leader, Captain Mosehan himself, but the other men were willing to take Waco’s orders for they knew he would have a good reason for everything he did. The crowd of townsmen stood around, talking amongst themselves but making no attempt either to help or hinder the Rangers. They showed some interest when the town marshal arrived, but he was one of the lawmen who regarded the Rangers as being an efficient and capable force and was willing to leave the investigation of the shooting in their hands: until he heard from the big man that Brad Kinross had confessed to the killing.
‘You said you’d kill him if he came round here again, Brad,’ Hardman, the marshal, growled. ‘I’m going to take you in.’
Hardman met Waco’s eyes for a moment, then looked away. He was the town law and head of Grand Rock’s three-man police force, but he was only a minor official when compared with the Territorial Rangers. He could not see any way he could take the prisoner from the Rangers even by violence, for they were all men picked for, among other things, skill with their guns.
Waco stepped over the rope and swung afork the big paint, riding to the town’s main street. He swung down from the horse and was leading it into the livery barn when a woman came out and crashed into him. She staggered back, dropping the double-barreled gun from under her arm.
‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Waco said, bending and picking the gun up.
‘It was my fault, young man.’
The woman was a beauty; tall, with a figure that caught the eye. She would be in her early forties, he guessed, but she was possessed of that mature beauty only a few women ever attain. There was a look about her, a lordly condescension, a kind of aloof disdain which said she was someone to be reckoned with. Her clothes were very expensive; the riding habit she wore and the J. B. Stetson hat on her red hair. The gun was expensive, too, a finely chased piece which had cost plenty.
Before Waco could say another word the woman swept by him and along the street. He took the paint into the barn and arranged for a couple of loose boxes; one for his horse and one for Doc’s big black stallion. The old-timer who was working at the barn grinned at him, ‘See you met the Colonel?’ he said.
‘Who?’ Waco inquired.
‘The Colonel, Mrs. Stacey, she’s the one who runs the 19th Cavalry up to the fort. Real lady, might be too highhanded for some but she’s always treated me good.’
Waco unsaddled the big horse and left his gear with the owner of the barn pending his return. He walked out on to the street and headed for the telegraph office; inside he sent a message to his boss. It was half-an-hour before the reply came back, but when it did, Waco was more than satisfied with it. Brad Kinross was lucky. He couldn’t have asked for better luck than having all the Rangers gathering in his home town of Grand Rock to have a group photograph taken; that ensured him twelve real good, loyal friends who would back him to the hilt. Yet he’d got more than just that piece of luck.
The telegraph reached Mosehan while he was with the Governor of Arizona Territory and that gentleman gave the signature to any action the Rangers felt they should take. Waco was relieved at this for he was going to tread on a whole lot of toes before this thing was over.
Just as he reached the street he stopped dead; opposite was the Wells Fargo office. He crossed the street and entered, asking a couple of questions of the agent, then came out. Billy Speed was just leading his own and Glendon’s horses towards the livery barn and Waco crossed to stop him.
‘Get afork your horse; take Pete’s with you and go after the stage to Calverton,’ he said. ‘It don’t make any speed and you should catch up with it easy. Tell Sarah Kinross to come back here.’ He gave the thin, cheerful-looking Ranger a message for the girl and watched Bill vault afork his horse and head off out of town, then returned to the Kinross place.
The county sheriff’s department was on hand when he arrived, represented by the deputy who stayed in Grand Rock all the time. He looked at Waco, ‘You Waco?’
‘The only one, friend.’
‘I want Kinross.’
‘You can’t have him,’ Waco replied and took out the telegraph message form, holding it for the deputy to read.
The deputy read, ‘Waco. Hold on authority of Governor, Ranger Kinross, pending my arrival to investigate. Mosehan.’
‘Well?’
‘You can see it for yourself, friend. Captain Mosehan’s told me to hold him and hold him she is.’
The deputy frowned; he was not sure exactly what rights he had in the matter but wasn’t going against the Governor of Arizona. He turned on his heel and headed for the telegraph office to send to the county seat for instructions as to what he should do now.
Waco went into the house. The body was removed as he’d said and Glendon was seated with Kinross; Doc stood looking out of the window. Kinross sat at the table, head resting on his hands. He looked up at Waco, his face showing the deep strain he was under.
Waco sat at the table, and his voice was hard and unfriendly as he asked, ‘Who was he and what happened?’
‘His name was Gadsby. Dane Gadsby, he’s a Captain of the 19th up there at the fort. I killed him.’
‘Why, and why’d you threaten to kill him?’
‘He kept pestering Sarah. Wouldn’t leave her alone. I told him to stay clear of her and he got two of his men to try and beat me up. I managed to fix them and I went to see him in the saloon; warned him that if he came near our place again I’d kill him.’
Waco was watching his friend’s face all the time, knowing that Brad Kinross was hiding something. ‘That sounds a mite hard, Brad. Sarah’s a real pretty gal and it’s only natural for a man to go after a nice, pretty gal. I’ve seen you chase a couple in your time.’
‘That depends on how a man chases them. You know that I was just after fun. Gadsby wasn’t. I learned a whole lot about him before I made my move. He’s been thrown out of every command he’s been with for the same thing. I got to know his striker and he told me all about how his boss keeps a book with photographs and all the details about the girls he’s been with. Calls it Gadsby’s Conquests. The striker was pretty drunk and he told me Gadsby told him that he aimed to add Sarah to his list. That was why I told him to stay away from her.’
‘How about Sarah, did she ever encourage him any?’ Kinross threw back his chair and came to his feet, fist clenched, then slowly he relaxed, for Waco never moved. ‘You know Sarah. Since maw and paw died we’ve been close together. No, Sarah danced a couple of times with him, but you know she’s been going steady with young Tom McCall. She wanted no part of Gadsby, but he took to hanging about outside the house, that was when I cut in. I didn’t want him doing it When I was out on a Ranger chore.’
‘Trouble, Waco,’ Doc said, from the window. ‘We’ve got the Army here now.’
Waco rose and joined his friend. A tall, hard-looking Colonel, a Major and a squad of troopers under a sergeant were approaching the gate. The Colonel came through and followed by the Major strode up to the house door. Waco waited until the knock came then went to it.
‘Kinross?’ the Colonel asked as Waco opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him again.
‘Nope, Colonel. Waco, Arizona Rangers.’
‘Where is Kinross?’
‘Inside.’
‘I’m Colonel Stacey of the 19th Cavalry. Kinross killed one of my officers. I want him.’
‘He’s my prisoner.’
Stacey looked at this young-looking Texan, finding eyes that met his own; met and did not flinch from the gaze which cowed soldiers. Then slowly the Colonel looked down at the matched guns in Waco’s holsters. Stacey could read the signs and knew that here was a man who could handle those same guns.
‘He murdered a member of the United States Cavalry,’ Stacey barked. ‘I’ve come personally to arrest him.’
‘I’m real sorry, Colonel. My orders from our leader, Cap’n Mosehan, is to hold Brad until he comes here to take charge of the investigations.’ Waco held out the telegraph message form. ‘That’s my authority, Colonel.’
Stacey ignored the telegraph form, his eyes hard. ‘I want that man. Do you intend to stop me taking him?’
‘If I have to.’
‘You’d fight United States soldiers to hold on to a murderer?’
‘Like I said, Colonel. He’s my prisoner. I’d fight the Devil himself before I’d let him take a prisoner from me. And Brad hasn’t been convicted by court yet, so he isn’t proved a murderer.’
For a time the two faced each other, the older man’s hard eyes softening as he realized that here was a young man doing his duty and standing firm in his orders in a way many a trained soldier would admire.
‘You couldn’t fight off all my regiment,’ Stacey finally remarked.
‘No, Colonel, but happen you try to take my prisoner I’m surely going to make me a good try.’
‘He won’t escape?’ the Major asked.
‘If it ever comes that he needs trying, Brad’ll be here for the same trial,’ Waco answered. ‘I’ve got my orders, gentlemen, and I surely aims to follow them right through till the last card’s played.’
Stacey’s face still showed his respect for the young Texan. He turned on his heel and started towards the gate. He halted and looked back. ‘I’d like to see both you and your leader when he arrives. Come to my house up by the fort.’
‘We’ll do that, Colonel,’ Waco answered. He remained at the door until the Colonel had walked away and the troopers were marched back towards the fort, then went into the house again.
One of the other Rangers came back. He’d been with the photographer and in his hand he carried three large prints of the body, showing bow it lay in comparison to the fence.
Glendon took the photographs and looked at them. They were not very clear prints but showed all that was necessary.
‘Not a bad idea, this, Waco,’ he said.
‘Got its uses,’ Waco agreed.
‘You just think of it?’
‘Nope, met a detective from the Chicago police, he told me they sometimes use photographs in cases like this.’
‘It important?’
‘Sure, Pete. These pictures show just how Gadsby was lying.’
The other two Rangers came back at that moment, bringing the coat Gadsby was wearing when he died. Waco sent one of them to fetch the deputy sheriff, the marshal and the judge. Then he looked up the slope and said, ‘Feel like taking a walk, Pete?’
Glendon showed some surprise at this, for Waco was a cowhand born and raised, and would never walk when he could ride. However, Glendon followed the young man up the slope, and on top he watched Waco looking for something. Glendon was no mean hand at following tracks or reading the marks left on the ground, and saw the marks in the short grass just an instant after Waco, From the way the grass was crushed both read that someone had walked this way, then knelt at the top of the rim, looking down at the house below, right at the spot where Gadsby stood when he was killed.
The tracks led for a short distance to a mesquite scrub where a horse had been tethered for a short time. From there on there were no more footprints, only the marks the horse left. Waco and Glendon looked at each other for a time, then Glendon asked:
‘What do you make of it all, boy?’
‘Could be important, might be nothing. We don’t have time to try and trail the hoss right now.’
‘I’ll follow them if you like,’ Glendon suggested, for he, too, saw the marshal and the two other men coming towards the house.
‘Do that,’ Waco answered and turned to hurry down the slope.
The Judge was a portly, tanned man; a keen outdoors man who would rather take a day’s hunting than a trial. He was also honest, scrupulously fair and impartial. He looked as Waco came down the slope and advanced to meet them.
‘I can’t say I like your high-handed way of doing things, Ranger,’ he said.
‘Would the marshal have turned one of his deputies over to me, had he been in my place, Judge?’ Waco replied. ‘I held on to Brad for the same reason. Then when I got my orders from Cap’n Mosehan I surely couldn’t just pull out and disobey them.’
‘I see your point, now, why did you want us to come here?’
‘To prove something to you. I want to clear Brad Kinross and his sister of the killing.’
‘Nobody blames Brad for killing Gadsby,’ the marshal growled. ‘If a man like that’d been after my daughter or sister I’d have done the same.’
‘Brad didn’t kill Gadsby. He said he did because he thought Sarah had killed him. Sarah thought Brad’d done it and she ran out. Took a stage out of town. I don’t know why she ran unless it was to make everyone think she’d done the killing and clear Brad.’
‘All right, but shouldn’t it be done in a courtroom?’
‘No, Judge, it shouldn’t,’ Waco replied. ‘Brad is an Arizona Ranger. If he goes into court, all the bunch who are after Cap’n Mosehan and getting the Rangers disbanded will have something to get their teeth into. They’ll want to see him convicted, innocent or guilty, and they’ll swear we rigged the evidence if we get him off. I want to prove to you that Brad couldn’t have done the killing and he doesn’t need to stand trial for it.’
The other Rangers came from the house. Brad Kinross looked at Waco with pleading in his eyes. Waco, however, was looking over the other men, then said to one of the Rangers, ‘Tom, you look about the same height as Gadsby. Put his coat on.’
The Ranger took the blood-covered coat and without a word slipped it on; it was a fair fit and he stood waiting for Waco’s next orders. The young Texan looked at the others, then stepped forward, handing the Judge his photographs of the body.
‘Gadsby was stood here,’ Waco said, putting the other Ranger in position. ‘I think he was facing with his left to the house, like this.’ Waco turned the other man round into position. ‘Now that bullet hit here,’ Waco indicated the small hole in the right breast, then pointed to the large tear at the left side. ‘And came out down here, ending in the gatepost, here. Any of you gents got a piece of string on you?’
‘Here you are, boy,’ the Judge pulled a long length of string from his pocket, handing it over. He was looking more interested now, although the marshal and the deputy were obviously puzzled by all this.
‘Hold this end on the bullet hole in the post, Brad,’ Waco ordered, and Kinross, still looking puzzled, did so. ‘Now gents, bullets do strange things, but they always go through the air in near enough a straight line,’ Waco went on, running the line through his hands and up to the bullet hole at the left side, then across the body to the other hole and moving back, keeping the cord in a straight line. Before he’d taken many steps back his arms were stretched above his head and pointing the cord towards the top of the slope.
For a moment none of the men spoke, then the marshal growled, ‘Gadsby could have been stood the other way round.’
‘And the bullet went down, through the post without making a mark on the other side; flew round Gadsby’s body, down in the right and out again?’ Waco’s contempt was obvious to see.
The Judge studied the situation, then looked up at the top of the rim and asked, ‘What did you find up there?’
‘Somebody knelt there, likely the killer. Couldn’t tell much from the sign, it wasn’t clear enough to make out boot shape or anything, being on short grass. But from the length of the stride I made it smaller than Brad and taller than Sarah.’
‘About five foot seven or eight them?’ the Judge inquired; he’d hunted often enough to know something about the reading of sign.
‘About that,’ Waco agreed. ‘Brad, go up to the house and get a saw or a hammer and chisel, the bullet’s still in there and I want it out.’
The other men stood around, silent and all busy with their own thoughts as the Rangers worked carefully to dig out the bullet which had killed Captain Gadsby. It took only a short time and Brad Kinross, his face relaxed and showing relief, held out a piece of lead. Apart from some mushrooming of the head the bullet was intact and from one glance is was obviously not fired from a revolver.
‘Looks like a rifle bullet,’ the marshal said.
‘That figgers,’ the Judge growled. ‘I never saw a revolver that’d carry from the top of that rim there, go clear through a man and bury into a wood post. What sort of rifle do you have, Brad?’
‘A Winchester Centennial, but it’s in the gunsmith’s and has been for three days now. There’s a couple of Winchester 73s in the house and a Ballard.’
‘That lets you out then,’ the Judge looked relieved. ‘This came from a high-powered rifle. A .45.70 at least.’
‘That’s the Army caliber,’ the deputy sheriff remarked. ‘Sure, but that bunch there are cavalry. They use the Springfield carbine and that wouldn’t have the range,’ Waco pointed out, then he looked at Brad. ‘Now why in hell’s name did you say you’d shot him?’
‘I was coming back from town when I thought I heard a shot. I came round the corner there and saw Sarah standing, looking down at Gadsby. Then she looked up and saw me; she turned and ran back into the house. I thought she’d done it.’
‘Had you got your gun in your hand when you came round the corner?’ Waco asked.
‘Sure, I didn’t know what I might run into and wasn’t taking any chances.’
‘So Sarah thought you’d killed him and you thought she’d done it. She ran out the back of the house, went to the stage depot and lit out of town so folk would blame her, you stayed here and tried to say you’d done it.’
Brad Kinross looked at the other men around him. He’d known the Judge, the marshal and the deputy sheriff most of his life and read friendship and belief in their faces.
‘Never thought you’d done it at all, Brad,’ the marshal stated. ‘I thought I should be the one to hold you though.’ At that moment, Billy Speed and a pretty, red-haired girl came round the corner riding their horses at a good speed. The girl slid down from her horse and ran up to Brad, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him.
‘Take her up to the house, Brad,’ Waco suggested.
‘Judge, I’d like you to come along and see the Colonel, and explain to him what you’ve just seen.’
‘Certainly I’ll come. The sooner this thing is cleared up the better. Who did kill Gadsby?’
‘That I don’t know,’ Waco replied.
‘I’d take it as a favor if you’d stay on and try to find out. From what I’ve just seen of you, I think you could.’ The Judge and Waco walked side by side on to Grand Rock’s main street and saw Pete Glendon coming towards them. He stopped and told Waco that the tracks of the horse had ended upon the main trail and he’d not been able to follow them anymore, nor get any clear imprint on which he might be able to locate the horse. Waco was expecting this and was not unduly bothered about it. There might, or might not, be a chance of finding the man who’d killed Gadsby, but with Brad Kinross in the clear, Waco was not too worried; it now came under the jurisdiction of the local law or the Army.
The Judge led the way, not to the fort but to a fair-sized, white painted, house near the gates. On the post-box at the end of the path leading to the door was painted, “Col. Elvin J. T. Stacey, 19th United States Cavalry.”
Knocking on the door the Judge remarked, ‘More likely to find the Colonel here than at the fort at this time of the day.’
The door was opened by a large, fat and smiling negress who apparently knew the Judge, for she stepped aside, ‘Come in, Judge, come right on in.’
The Judge and Waco entered the hall and were taken to the sitting room, waved inside and left. The room interested Waco, it reminded him of Ole Devil Hardin’s study back in the Rio Hondo country of Texas. Both were alike in the air of masculine comfort and lack of feminine frills. The walls were decorated with paintings of battle scenes and animal heads. On the floor was a buffalo hide rug which was met by the skin of a large silver tip grizzly. Over the fireplace a pair of crossed guidons with holes in them which might have been caused by hostile bullets. Waco’s eyes went to the stand of arms in the corner; there was a fine looking Springfield officer’s model rifle, a couple of Winchesters, a Sharps and four double-barreled guns. On a small table near where Waco was standing a copy of the Army and Navy Journal lay, open in the center of the correspondence page. Waco was just about to pick it up and read the letters when the door at the other end of the room opened and a tall, black haired, beautiful woman came in. Although she now wore a stylish, though rather severe-looking dress instead of a riding habit Waco recognized her.
‘Afternoon, Laura,’ the Judge said, holding out his hand. ‘We came round to see Elvin but he’s still across at the fort.’
‘Yes,’ the woman’s voice was cool, impersonal and cultured. ‘He’s rather busy arranging for Dane Gadsby’s funeral.’ Her eyes flickered at Waco, leaving him feeling very young and inexperienced. ‘I think we’ve met somewhere.’
‘Came together’d be a better way of putting it, ma’am,’ Waco replied.
‘Of course. You’re the young man I bumped into outside the livery barn. I’m sorry about that. I was rather engrossed and didn’t see you coming.’
‘This’s one of the Arizona Rangers; Waco’s his name,’ the Judge remarked. ‘He’s in charge of investigating Gadsby’s death.’
‘Really, I expected a much older man. So you are the one who refused to hand over his prisoner to my husband?’
‘Yes, ma’am. I’m surely sorry but I had my orders—’
‘And you carried them out. Never apologize for doing your duty, young man. My husband was rather impressed by your action. He thinks you’d make a good soldier.’
‘Not unless I rode under the Stars and Bars, ma’am.’
The woman smiled, her face lighting up as she looked at him. She held out her hand to him, her grip firm and strong. Somehow, even though she was a really beautiful woman, Waco did not regard her as such. He felt that she would never really be at home in the company of other women but would prefer to be around men.
‘What did you wish to see Elvin about, Charles?’
‘Like we said, Gadsby’s killing, ma’am,’ Waco put in, speaking bluntly and watching her face all the time.
‘A tragic ending to a career. One of your men is under suspicion of the killing, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, ma’am, that’s why I want to see your husband.’
‘What could he do to help you?’
‘Gadsby was one of his men and I don’t know how the Army stand together. I’d like him to place the town off limits until we’ve finished with the matter. It’ll save some trouble and friction with the local folks,’ Waco replied. ‘Remember when an officer of the 14th Infantry got killed in a gunfight in Fort Worth. The troopers in town got into fights and trouble—’
‘They were only infantry,’ Laura Stacey answered. ‘Not the 19th Cavalry. We’ve quite a tradition behind us and one of the things the 19th can say is that we’ve never made trouble for any civilians.’
‘You know some about the regiment, ma’am?’ Waco asked, glancing at the nearest picture which depicted a cavalry charge on a Confederate artillery battery.
‘I should, my father organized and commanded it. That is the 19th’s charge on the 2nd Virginia Artillery at the battle of Shell Creek. It was that charge which saved the day and brought victory out of what could easily have been defeat.’
‘Sounds like you know the regiment real well, ma’am.’
‘Know it. Laura is the 19th Cavalry,’ the Judge put in. ‘I bet she can tell you every action they ever fought in and damned near every man who ever served with the regiment since it started.’
‘You exaggerate, Charles.’ Laura Stacey showed some pride at the Judge’s words. ‘I have been with the 19th, except when they were in the field, ever since it was formed. We have a great tradition, Ranger. That is what makes a truly great regiment, tradition, honor—’
‘And no scandal.’
Laura Stacey looked at the Judge, and there was annoyance in her eyes. ‘There has never been any breath of scandal attached to the 19th Cavalry and never will.’
At that moment the Negro maid looked in and asked Laura to go to the kitchen with her to check over some supplies which had just arrived from the local store. The Judge watched Laura sweep from the room and then turned back to Waco, and smiling, said:
‘She’s a great one for the regiment, Laura is.’ He took a seat in one of the chairs. ‘Like she says, she was born to it. They reckon the only reason she married Stacey was because he was the one most likely to get the promotion to Colonel. She shoved him on to the top. Only time you’ll ever see her rattled is if there’s something wrong with the regiment.’
Waco went to the small table and took up the Army and Navy Journal. He’d often read it in Texas and found the letters the most interesting part. One caught his eye straight away.
‘Better than Singleshot.’
‘Sirs.’
‘I would like to take up the issue of single shot or repeating rifles.’ Waco grinned, the controversy over whether the Army should be issued with repeating or single shot arms was one which had raged since before the Civil War. The official policy being that a single shot arm was stronger, more reliable and that a repeater would need too much time spent in keeping it clean, and would also tend to make the user waste ammunition. ‘I understand the official policy and would like to suggest that if no repeating arm is found which is satisfactory then a double-barreled rifle would be the answer. I have recently purchased such a rifle from Colt. In caliber it is .45.70. It is as easy to care for and far easier to reload than the Springfield carbine. Nor in the time I have used it have I ever had a cartridge case jam in the breech. Had George Custer’s command been armed with double-barreled rifles at the Battle of Little Bighorn things might have come far different.’
Waco read through the letter and, at the end, the signature of the sender. He was a thoughtful young man as he glanced at the stand of arms in the corner. Turning, he said, ‘I’d best go and see if Cap’n Mosehan’s arrived yet. If he’s here I’ll fetch him round.’
The Judge showed Waco out and returned to the sitting room. He did not see the young man head, not for the Kinross place, but for the far side of the fort where, in a dry-wash, the cavalry had fixed up a target range. On reaching this, Waco grubbed around until he found what he was looking for. He slipped the thing into his pocket and headed for town, still not going to the Kinross house, but to the livery barn.
The old-timer who’d been there when Waco brought his horse in was still on duty. He came across and watched as Waco stroked the neck of the big paint.
~*~
‘Fine hoss, Ranger,’ he said.
That gave Waco the chance he’d been waiting for. Livery barn staff were as talkative as barbers and the old man was full of the news and views of the town. He tried to pump Waco about the killing and appeared to think that even if Brad Kinross shot Gadsby he was only doing something which should have been done much sooner.
Waco was a capable talker, one who knew how to steer a conversation any way he wanted it to go without arousing the other’s suspicions. He brought the talk round to guns, then shooting for sport.
‘Any chance of getting some bird shooting round here, Colonel?’ he asked.
‘You mean with a scattergun?’
‘Why sure, I did some wing shooting back in Texas and reckon it’s real good for keeping the sighting eye in. Ain’t seed much out here to shoot though.’
‘There’s plenty on the range, prairie chicken and turkey for two. You saw Mrs. Stacey this morning. She goes out most days with a shotgun after birds. Today was the first time she didn’t bring any back. Must have been them newfangled sights on the gun she’d got with her.’
‘Sights. I thought all shotguns had sights.’
‘These were rifle sights, set on the wrist of the stock. Pity, it was a real, fine double-barreled gun. Shouldn’t never have tried rifle sights on it.’
‘Could you tell that gun agin? Waco asked, his voice showing none of the excitement he felt. ‘See, I’m borrowing a gun from the Colonel and I surely don’t want that one.’ The old-timer snorted. ‘Surely I could tell it again. Real new-looking gun, fine worked too, fancy checkered grip. Only that sight on the wrist spoils it.’
‘I’ll remember that, Colonel. I’d best get round to see Brad. See you around, Colonel.’
Waco went round to the Kinross house as fast as he could make it. One of the other Rangers was leading a steaming, sweating horse. He jerked his thumb to the house and remarked, ‘Cap’n Bert’s there and waiting for you.’ Going up the path Waco knocked on the door and entered. Mosehan was seated at the table, his face showing the strain of riding a four-horse relay from Tucson, covering ground fast to get here. He looked up at Waco, then at Brad Kinross and Doc Leroy who were seated in the room.
‘What do you know, Waco?’ Mosehan asked.
‘Tell you on the way to see a man,’ Waco replied. ‘If you feel like walking, Cap’n. You’re not getting any younger.’
‘Younger,’ Mosehan snorted. ‘What do you think I am, old?’
They walked through the streets and Waco told Mosehan all he suspected as they walked. At the Stacey house the colored maid let them in and showed them to the sitting room again. Colonel Stacey, his wife and the Judge were seated round the table; the Colonel rose as Waco came in. Stacey was cordial to Waco and polite when the young Texan introduced Mosehan.
‘What do you intend doing about that man of yours, Mosehan?’ Stacey asked.
‘Nothing. Brad is innocent.’
Stacey looked at Mosehan for a time, then asked, ‘Isn’t that for a court to decide?’
‘Not unless the Judge wants the town in trouble for false arrest. Waco here has proved Kinross’ innocence; right, Judge?’
That’s right. I’ll show you what he means if you want to come down there and see for yourself, Elvin.’
‘Who did the killing then?’ Stacey snapped. ‘Or don’t you know?’
‘The boy here thinks he knows,’ Mosehan answered. ‘He’s one of my best men, the one who caught Massey after he’d tried to murder Chief Victorio. Reckon he’d best tell you what he told me on the way here.’
Stacey looked at Waco with fresh respect; he’d heard of the murder attempt on the life of the old Apache chief, Victorio, when the chief came in to sign the peace treaty. He glanced at his wife, who sat erect in her chair, face showing no expression at all, but her hands clenched together.
‘Brad Kinross didn’t kill Gadsby. I proved that to the Judge and I’ll go and prove it to you, Colonel. Brad confessed because he thought Sarah, his sister, killed him. Sarah thought Brad’d done it and she took a stage out of town. That made Brad sure she’d done it. She went because she thought the suspicion would fall on her rather than him.
‘What neither knew was that Gadsby was dead before either of them came near him. I’m going to talk plain, Colonel, with all respect to Mrs. Stacey, and I’m going to say things that neither of you is going to like, but they are true and need to be said. So let the cards fall as they’re played. One of my friends is in trouble. This thing could ruin all Cap’n Mosehan’s worked for, it will give the bunch who hate the Rangers and want to get rid of them something to work on. I’m not having a killing hanging over Brad Kinross.’
‘We’ll accept that,’ Stacey answered. ‘Carry on, no matter how unpleasant.’
‘First, Gadsby was a woman-chasing, no-good trouble causer and to hell with speaking well of the dead. He’d been thrown out of every Army job he held for the same thing. He wasn’t just a woman chaser, he was a vicious, callous brute who treated women worse than dogs. You all know about Gadsby’s Conquests, how he flaunted them before the other members of his mess. This time the girl he chose for his conquest was sensible enough to get out before it was too late. That hurt his vanity and he started to chase her. She’d got a brother who was tough, capable and handy. He told Gadsby to stay away from her and Gadsby sent two troopers to work Brad over. That was why Brad Kinross said he’d kill Gadsby if he didn’t stay away from Sarah.’
‘You’re making a good case for your friend to have killed Gadsby, Ranger,’ Stacey put in. ‘I don’t know where you heard so much about Gadsby, and I’m not going to admit it is true.’
‘We’ll pass that, Colonel, you know what is true and what isn’t. Sure, I’ve made a good case for Brad to have killed Gadsby. But Brad isn’t the sort who’d need to drop a man in cold blood. He’s good with a gun and I mean good. Colonel, Brad was fast enough to let Gadsby start lifting his gun, then still kill him before he could line it. Why’d Brad lay for Gadsby with a rifle, down him and risk being caught for murder when he could take Gadsby in a fair fight, or what’d pass for a fair fight, and kill him without giving the law a chance to touch him?’
‘You say a rifle. How did you know that?’
‘The bullet went right through Gadsby and buried into the gatepost. From the angle it went, the bullet must have come from a rifle. A revolver, fired at the range that bullet came from, wouldn’t have been powerful enough to do it.’
‘Then if your friend didn’t kill Gadsby, who did?’
‘Somebody who hated Gadsby for what he was. Who knew the kind of man he was and that he would bring trouble to everyone round him and ruin the good name of the regiment by his actions. Someone with a .45.70 rifle; not a carbine, but a rifle.’
‘There is no proof of any of that, Ranger,’ Laura Stacey spoke for the first time. Her tones were even but there was a slight tremor in them.
‘I can get it, ma’am. The old gent at the livery barn and I both saw that Colt double-barreled rifle you’d taken with you this morning. Saw the backsight on the wrist.’
Stacey came to his feet, angry words coming from his lips, but his wife laid a hand on his sleeve. ‘I carried a double-barreled gun, I often do, old Wilson at the livery barn knows that. I often give him the birds I bring back.’
‘That’s why he noticed the gun, ma’am. You didn’t bring any back today,’ Waco replied, dipping his hand into his pocket and dropping a cartridge case on to the table. ‘I found this where you knelt and lined the rifle on Gadsby.’
‘I didn’t unload the gun there!’
Stacey and the other men were all on their feet, the Colonel’s face twisted in rage, his body tensing to hurl at this young man who’d come into his home and accused his wife of murdering a man. Then he realized what Laura’s words meant. He looked at his wife. She stood there, hands at her sides, head held erect, face showing no expression now she’d made that slip.
‘All right, Ranger, I killed Gadsby,’ she said. Through the blur in front of her eyes she saw her husband’s haggard face. ‘I’m sorry, Elvin. From the start I warned you what kind of man he was. His reputation came ahead of him and I could see that he would bring a scandal on the regiment. He was obsessed with one idea: getting Sarah Kinross amongst his conquests. He meant to do it any way he could. I didn’t mean to kill him this morning and I’d taken the Colt rifle out to try and shoot a pronghorn buck I’d seen. I was on the way back along the rim behind the Kinross house when I saw Gadsby coming up. I knew that he was going to make some trouble and that what he was doing would ruin the regiment. I couldn’t let him do it.’
‘So you shot him, ma’am,’ Waco said softly.
‘I shot him. My father made this regiment; made it and kept its tradition for chivalry and honor. Gadsby was ruining all that he stood for, so I shot him down like I would a mad dog. I wouldn’t have let your friend stand trial for the murder, Ranger. I meant to write a letter and leave it for the town marshal and go East. Now it is out in the open and I’m glad it is.’
‘What do you aim to do, Ranger?’ Stacey asked, his voice hoarse as he put his arm round the shoulders of his wife.
‘That depends on Cap’n Mosehan. I want to see Brad cleared of the killing. The Arizona Rangers haven’t been formed long but we’ve got a tradition ourselves. A tradition for honesty, loyalty to each other and to Cap’n Bert. It won’t do the Rangers any good if word gets out that one of our men is suspected of murder. I just want to see him cleared.’
And he will be, I promise you that,’ Laura Stacey answered. ‘Judge, I and I alone killed Gadsby; Brad and Sarah Kinross were in no way implicated.’
Waco took up his hat, looked at Mosehan and then said, ‘I’m sorry about having to do this, ma’am. If there is anything I can do to help—’
‘Nothing, thanks, Ranger.’ It was Stacey who answered, for the first time in his life taking charge of his wife’s affairs. ‘You did your duty as you saw it, as Laura did hers. There is no need to apologies for that.’
Waco left the house and went to the gate. He stood there for a time, then a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned and looked at Mosehan who stood just behind him. For a moment neither of them spoke, then the Ranger Captain gently patted the broad shoulder.
‘What’ll happen to her. Captain?’
‘She’ll be tried; after that — ¿quién sabe?’
They walked together towards Brad Kinross’ home where the rest of their men would be waiting for them, all eager to hear their news.