Chapter Three
“I’m an adventuress, Colonel,” Hannah Huckabee said. “I have places to go, a balloon to fly. The last thing I want is to kick my heels around at Fort Concho for the next month.”
Colonel Ben Grierson was apologetic but firm. “I’m sorry, but providing you with room and board is the best I can do. We just battled an Apache outbreak and the telegraph lines are still cut in dozens of places. Wiring your accountants in New York is out of the question, at least for a while.”
“Maybe you can get the stuff you need right here in San Angelo,” Red Ryan said. “I know for a fact they have a good hardware store.”
Hannah shook her head. “Red, I don’t think you understand. I need a new balloon, burner, hydrogen cylinders, and most of all, money,” she said. “I can’t find that in San Angelo.”
“Lady, you couldn’t find that in all of Texas,” Buttons Muldoon said.
“Mr. Muldoon is right, and I don’t know what to suggest, Miss Huckabee,” Grierson said. “I’m at a loss.” He rose from his chair and walked to a map of the state that hung on a wall. “And there’s a further complication.” The colonel looked at Red. “This will interest you, Mr. Ryan, and you too, Mr. Muldoon.”
“Not more Apaches, I hope, Colonel,” Buttons said. “I had enough of them the last time.”
“Worse than that, or at least just as bad. The word I get from the Texas Rangers is that Dave Winter has moved up from the border.” Colonel Grierson swept his hand across the map, taking in the country to the southeast of Fort Concho. “He’s currently operating in this area and already playing hob.”
“Hell, Colonel, that takes in most of my stage route,” Buttons said.
“Indeed, it does,” Grierson said. “And the ranger here at the post says Winter has about twenty hard cases with him and he’s on a rampage. Homesteads have been looted and burned, people murdered, and a posse out of Houston was ambushed with three dead and five wounded before the survivors broke off the fight. A deputy U.S. Marshal was among the dead. From what the ranger said, there were no casualties on Winter’s side.”
“But I was told that the ranger has two prisoners in the stockade, Colonel,” Buttons said. “Any chance that those are a couple of Winter’s boys?”
“No such luck. They’re poor Mexican farmers from a village to the southwest of here,” Grierson said. “The ranger arrested them after they crossed the border from the New Mexico Territory.”
Hannah Huckabee said, “Good heavens, Colonel Grierson, what did they do in the territory? Steal somebody’s chickens?”
A slight smile touched the colonel’s lips. “They stole a Madonna from a mission chapel on the Pecos. Caught red-handed with her, I’m told.” It was obvious from the girl’s expression that she was drawing a blank, and Grierson said, “During the recent Indian troubles, the Mexicans fled their village and the Apaches then burned their adobes and killed off their livestock, leaving them in even greater poverty, if that was possible.”
“So, a couple of farmers stole to make ends meet,” Hannah said.
“It’s not quite that simple,” the colonel said. “Ranger Tim Adams told me that a preacher passed though the village and told the people that just across the New Mexico border the peons were prospering and that they should go there with their families. He happened to mention a village on the Pecos that was particularly thriving, thanks to their black Madonna, Nuestra Senora del Alba Luz.”
“Our Lady of the Dawn Light,” Hannah said. She smiled. “I have some Spanish. I once had a sword-fighting adventure at the Castle of Catalina in Cádiz.”
“You must tell me about it sometime,” Grierson said. “Well, our two farmers decided that stealing such a powerful Madonna and bringing her back to their own village was a good idea, because she would bring prosperity. They left with a few tortillas and a donkey for hauling the statue and did what they set out to do.”
“They stole it,” Red Ryan said.
“Yes, they stole it out of a chapel and now the New Mexican villagers want their Madonna back and the two thieving Texas peons hanged,” the colonel said.
“Where is the Madonna now?” Hannah said.
“Miss Huckabee always interested in the Madonna,” Mr. Chang said. “She want to get to the bottom of things.”
“Is that so? Well, Ranger Adams has her in custody. He says she’s evidence.” Colonel Grierson put his hand on Buttons’s shoulder and said, “And now I have bad news for you, Mr. Muldoon.”
Buttons raised a hairy eyebrow. “I hate bad news, Colonel. But lay it on me.”
“Ranger Adams plans to commandeer the Patterson stage to transport the Mexicans and the Madonna to Austin, where his prisoners will stand trial for theft and possibly sacrilege,” the colonel said.
Buttons was indignant. “He can’t do that, it’s against company policy.”
“Yes, he can,” Grierson said. “But to ease your pain, Buttons, he’ll book himself and his prisoners as passengers.”
“How does he plan to pay?” Red said. “It’s two hundred miles to Austin.”
“And every mile of it out of our way,” Buttons said.
“My guess is that he’ll give you a ranger IOU,” the colonel said.
“Colonel, have you ever tried to collect an IOU from the Texas Rangers?” Red said.
“No, but I understand it’s difficult.”
“Difficult?” Buttons said. “It’s impossible. The rangers never have any money. They spend it all on ammunition.”
“You’d better speak to Ranger Adams about that, I’m afraid,” Grierson said.
“And what about the coward?” Buttons said. “What’s his name? John Latimer.”
The officer’s face stiffened. “What about him?”
“The Patterson stage company was contracted to carry only one passenger . . . and he’s the coward,” Buttons said.
“Yes, I know that,” Grierson said. “As far as I’m aware, that bill will be paid by the British legation in Washington.”
“They’re paying for the whole coach and one coward, Colonel,” Buttons said. “They won’t want a couple of Mexican Madonna thieves in there with him.”
“That’s a matter you’ll have to take up with the British government, Mr. Muldoon,” Grierson said. “I’m sure they’ll be understanding.”
Buttons shook his head. “Well, if this don’t beat all. And here I thought driving a yellow-belly was bad enough. Now I’m stuck with a ranger and two Madonna thieves.”
The colonel said, “Have you read about the troubles the British have had in India, fighting Afghan bandits, Mr. Muldoon? Have you, Mr. Ryan? It’s all-out war along the Northwest Frontier, with heavy casualties on both sides.”
Red and Buttons exchanged glances, and then Red said, “Can’t say as we have. We read plenty about the Apache war that almost cost us our scalps, but nothing about them bandits.”
“Then I have some dispatches in my office concerning that conflict if you wish to read them,” Colonel Grierson said. “You may discover that the line between hero and coward in any war is very fine indeed, and both options are open to interpretation.”
Buttons smiled. “Well, you lost me there, Colonel.”
“All I’m saying, Mr. Muldoon, is don’t be too quick to pin the coward label on a man until you know all the facts.”