Death Rides a Chestnut Mare

Chapter 17

Nobody spoke to Danielle after Reece McCandless had tried to shoot her in the back and had been gunned down. It was an undeniable case of self-defense, for McCandless had fired three times before Danielle had gotten off a shot. Nobody followed Danielle, and she had no idea what to expect. She stopped across the street, watching the house where she hoped there were two outlaws who might lead her to Snakehead Kalpana.

Sheriff Duro had no stomach for what lay ahead, but he had little choice. Somebody had to tell Simon McCandless that his gutless son had been gunned down after he’d tried to shoot another man in the back. Duro knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” McCandless asked.

“Sheriff Duro.”

“Come on in,” said McCandless gruffly as Duro closed the door behind him. “Now whatever you have to say, speak up. Don’t waste my time with trivial things you could have taken care of yourself.”

“Some things I don’t do,” Sheriff Duro said, “and standin’ between two hombres with guns is one of ’em. That loudmouth boy of yours just got himself shot dead after he tried to shoot another man in the back.”

Simon McCandless’s expression didn’t change. He was overweight, with gray eyebrows, gray hair, and a ruddy complexion. Kicking back his chair, he got up and walked to the window. For a long moment he looked out, seething, and when he again turned to Sheriff Duro, his face was white with rage.

“Just where the hell were you when this was taking place?” he thundered.

“Watching Reece go up against the fastest gun I’ve ever seen,” said Sheriff Duro. “He started it, and besides being a damned fool, he was a coward too.”

“Nobody guns down my boy and lives to talk about it,” McCandless shouted. “Nobody. Do you understand that?”

“I understand that it was a more than a fair fight,” said Sheriff Duro. “Reece had a mad on because when he was stripping a girl in a saloon, this young gunfighter buffaloed him. It didn’t do a hell of a lot for the McCandless image. Since then, the saloon girl has had her throat cut, and I think we have the brave Reece McCandless to thank for that.”

“Are you done?” McCandless asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“For the time being,” said Sheriff Duro. “I put up with a lot in this damn town, but I won’t side with a yellow, back-shootin’ coward, even if he is a McCandless.”

“Then you just tell me who this young gun-thrower is,” McCandless said, “and I’ll see that he pays.”

“His name is Daniel Strange,” said Sheriff Duro. “He’s after the outlaws who murdered his pa in Indian Territory. Snakehead Kalpana’s one of them.”

“Kalpana’s the gun-happy bastard who shot a ranger in Laredo,” McCandless said, “and you let him hang around here?”

“Hell, I didn’t know about the ranger in Laredo,” said Sheriff Duro. “You ain’t in the habit of checking references on none of these owlhoots. Why should Kalpana be that much different from the others?”

“He shot a ranger, and the rest of them will trail Kalpana all the way to hell and then go in after him,” McCandless said. “Where is he now?”

“Across the river,” said Sheriff Duro. “Dirk and Malo, a couple of his amigos, have a room here in town. I reckon they’ll know where he is.”

“Then get them,” McCandless said, “and see that they take a message to Kalpana. Tell him there’s a gunfighter in town looking for him, and unless he gets rid of this troublesome kid, he’ll get no protection from me.”

“Suppose the kid, Daniel Strange, guns down Kalpana?”

“Then you can report to the rangers that Snakehead Kalpana’s dead,” McCandless said, “and that ought to keep the law off our backs.”

“And if Kalpana guns down this Daniel Strange?”

“He will have paid for murdering my son,” said McCandless, “and I’ll see that Snakehead Kalpana is put where his reputation won’t harm us.”

“So either Snakehead Kalpana or Daniel Strange is to die in a gunfight,” Sheriff Duro said, “and you aim to take care of the survivor.”

“In my own way,” said McCandless. “If this Daniel Strange survives a shoot-out with Snakehead Kalpana, he still must pay for killing my son. As long as Kalpana’s alive, we’re up against the possibility the rangers will come looking for him. I’m sure they’ll be asking some embarrassing questions. It’ll be better for us if Daniel Strange guns Kalpana down. It’ll take ranger eyes off us, and I can still see that Daniel Strange pays. Now get out of here and find those men who have been riding with Kalpana.”

All Danielle’s suspicions of Sheriff Duro were confirmed when she saw the lawman mount the outside stairs of the boardinghouse she was watching. Sheriff Duro knocked on the door, it opened, and he entered. Danielle would have given all her worth to hear what was being said. Sheriff Duro wasted no time.

“One or both of you have to ride across the river and find Snakehead Kalpana. You do know where he is, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” said Dirk cautiously.

“Damn it,” Duro shouted, “you either know or you don’t. Which is it?”

“All right,” said Dirk, “we can find him, but he ain’t the kind to spook easy. What do we tell him?”

“Tell him there’s a young gunfighter in town, gunning for him,” Sheriff Duro said. “If Kalpana don’t shut this kid up, we’ll have the rangers after us. McCandless said if Kalpana don’t ride over here and cut the kid’s string, that he can stay in Mexico until he croaks because he won’t get protection from us. You knew Kalpana killed a ranger in Laredo.”

“Well . . . uh . . . yes,” said Malo, “but that’s a long ways from here.”

“Not when it concerns the death of a ranger,” Sheriff Duro said. “Now get going. We want Kalpana on this side of the river when he faces Daniel Strange.”

“That ain’t hard to figure out,” said Dirk. “You figure this young gunslinger can take Kalpana. Then you’ll turn his carcass over to the rangers so’s they don’t show up here.”

“Don’t do too much thinking,” Sheriff Duro said. “You ain’t equipped for it. Just tell Kalpana this kid’s got vengeance on his mind, and a draw as quick as a rattler. Kalpana’s finished here unless he guns down this troublesome kid.”

With that, Sheriff Duro stepped out the door, closing it behind him. He had no doubts that Dirk and Malo could find Kalpana, for they had ridden with him from Laredo after Kalpana had gunned down the ranger.

“What you reckon we ought to do?” Malo asked after Sheriff Duro had gone.

“We got to find Kalpana,” said Dirk. “He’s a marked man. If he can gun down this Daniel Strange, we can hide out here awhile longer.”

Danielle watched Sheriff Duro descend the stairs, mount his horse, and ride away. Sundown was picketed nearby, and Danielle led the chestnut mare back to her vantage point, where she could see the outside stairs. Sheriff Duro had been gone only a few minutes when the two men she had been watching descended the stairs. Danielle watched them go to the nearest livery, which was two blocks away. When they rode out, she followed, keeping them in sight, but far enough behind that they wouldn’t grow suspicious. The duo kept to side streets, and it soon became apparent they were headed for the river. Danielle followed them, convinced they were on their way to warn Snakehead Kalpana. Having the rangers after him, as well as a vindictive gunfighter, might convince him to remain in old Mexico, and Danielle couldn’t abide that. She was breaking the law just crossing the border, and a gunfight with Kalpana could get her thrown into a Mexican prison. Still, she followed, not sure as to how she would get past the border sentries. But there were no sentries, and no evidence there ever had been. It seemed the border was open to Mexican and American outlaws, the alliance being sanctioned by corrupt officials on both sides of the border.

In less than an hour the two men Danielle was trailing reined up before a crude cabin. A tendril of smoke trailed from the mud-and-stick chimney. A single horse stood outside on a picket rope. One of the two men pounded on the door.

“Who is there?” demanded a voice from inside.

“Dirk and Malo,” said one of the men, loud enough for Danielle to hear. “We got a message for you.”

The door was opened, and Dirk and Malo entered. They wasted no time.

“There’s a young gunfighter, Daniel Strange, looking for you,” Dirk said. “Sheriff Duro brought the word from old man McCandless that if you don’t silence this damn kid, you’ll be stuck in Mexico for the rest of your life.”

“Perhaps it is a trap to lure me into the hands of the rangers,” Kalpana said. “Could this Daniel Strange be one of them?”

“No,” said Dirk. “This kid ain’t even old enough to shave. He told Sheriff Duro you’re one of a bunch of outlaws that robbed and hanged his pa in Indian Territory.”

Kalpana laughed. “And he seeks revenge. Well, my amigos, he will have his chance. Then you can bury him.”

Dirk and Malo shuddered, for they had seen Snakehead Kalpana in action. He carried two thonged down revolvers and could draw and shoot with either hand. He was as fast as the serpent whose name he had taken.

“Then saddle up and let’s ride,” said Dirk. “I always get the feeling these Mejicanos are watching us. It gives me the creeps.”

Kalpana took his saddlebags, and the trio went out. Dirk and Malo waited until Kalpana had saddled his horse. Mounting, the three of them rode north. Following, Danielle sighed with relief. She had every reason to believe the third man was Snakehead Kalpana, and it appeared, for whatever reason, that he was riding back across the border into Texas. She would have gunned down Kalpana south of the border, had there been no other way, but the threat of Mexican prison was very real. Now Danielle concerned herself with where Kalpana would go once he reached Brownsville.

“What do you aim to do first?” Malo asked Kalpana.

“I aim to have me a talk with old man McCandless,” said Kalpana. “I ain’t takin’ orders from that old buzzard.”

“Then you ride on over to the bank and have it out with him,” Dirk said. “We already locked horns with him once.”

The three outlaws separated, Dirk and Malo riding back toward their rooming house. Virtually certain the third man was Kalpana, Danielle followed him. He reined up outside the bank, tied his horse to the hitch rail, and went inside. When he reached McCandless’s office, he didn’t bother knocking. Closing the door behind him, his cold, hard eyes met those of Simon McCandless.

“Don’t you ever again walk into my office without knocking,” McCandless hissed.

Kalpana laughed. “You scare the hell out of me, old man.”

McCandless struggled to control himself. However arrogant and disagreeable Kalpana was, McCandless had need of him. He swallowed hard, managing to speak in a near-normal tone of voice.

“There’s a loudmouth kid gunning for you. Not only does he have a damn good reason, but he’s seen fit to tell others why he’s after you. Now you got two choices. You can gun down this Daniel Strange, or you can ride out of Brownsville and keep going.”

“You wasn’t so high and mighty when Malo, Dirk, and me rode in,” said Kalpana. “You was only too glad to take a cut from the horses we sold after running ’em across the river from Mexico.”

“That was before I learned you had killed a ranger in Laredo,” McCandless said. “That put a considerable price on your head, and one way or another, this Daniel Strange knows you’re here. If he keeps shootin’ off his mouth about you and what you done in Indian Territory, we’ll have the rangers in here. I don’t aim for that to happen. Now you can silence this Daniel Strange, or you can get the hell out of here. What’s it gonna be?”

“I got a feeling Dirk and Malo didn’t tell me everything,” Kalpana said. “Why don’t you tell me the real reason you want me to cut this gun-thrower’s string?”

“Besides spreading the word about you—a ranger killer and first-class bastard—are in town, he shot and killed Reece, my only son.”

Kalpana laughed. “Why? Was your kid playin’ with his marbles, or did he stand up on his hind legs like the big boys do?”

Again McCandless struggled to control his temper. Lying would gain him nothing, for Kalpana would learn the truth. Finally, he spoke.

“Reece got into a quarrel with this Daniel Strange, and pulled a gun,” McCandless said. “The kid carries two guns, and he’s fast as greased lightning.”

“There’s a chance he might be faster than me, then,” said Kalpana. “I don’t aim to risk my neck just to avenge your idiot son, and I can’t see it’s to my advantage to silence this Daniel Strange. If the town ends up neck-deep in rangers, I can just ride on. It’ll be you and your pet sheriff that gets kicked off your thrones.”

Things weren’t going right at all. Snakehead Kalpana had stayed alive by always being a cut above the average outlaw. McCandless sighed and spoke.

“All right, I’ll admit my argument with Daniel Strange is twofold. I want him silenced permanently before he endangers my position here, and I want him to pay for killing my son. I’ll pay you five hundred dollars.”

“Double that,” Kalpana said, “and we’ll talk.”

“Half now, and half when the job’s done,” said McCandless.

“Deal,” Kalpana said. “Show me your money.” From a desk drawer McCandless took a small canvas sack and he counted out twenty-five gold double eagles. He shoved the money across the desk to Kalpana.

“Now,” said McCandless, “when do you aim to take care of him?”

“Soon as I can find him and force him to pull iron,” Kalpana said.

Kalpana then left the office, mounted his horse, and rode back to join his companions, Dirk and Malo. Danielle followed. Kalpana reached the boardinghouse, mounted the outside stairs, and knocked on the door. He was let in, and Danielle settled down to wait. Whatever the trio did, it seemed highly unlikely they would remain in their room very long.

“Well,” said Dirk when Kalpana entered, “I see you met the old grizzly and come out with a whole hide.”

“I done considerably better than that,” Kalpana boasted. “McCandless wants this Daniel Strange to pay for killing that fool kid, Reece. He wants it bad enough to pay me for the job. That’s a thousand in gold.”

“That’s somethin’ to your credit,” said Dirk, “pro vided this kid don’t kill you. He’s as fast as anybody I’ve ever seen, and he leads a charmed life.”

“Yeah,” Malo agreed, “and I reckon McCandless didn’t tell you that his fool kid tried to shoot Strange in the back. McCandless wouldn’t draw, and when Strange turned his back on McCandless, the yellow coyote went for his gun. But Strange was expecting that. He hit the dirt, and all three shots McCandless fired missed. Then the kid shot him dead.”

“He won’t have to worry about turning his back on me,” said Kalpana. “I’ll face him in an even fight. Where do I find him?”

“Generally at the American Saloon,” Dirk said. “He’s as lucky at the faro table as he is behind a gun.”

“The saloon don’t open for another two hours,” said Malo. “You might as well take a rest until then.”

Danielle waited impatiently, realizing the trio probably wouldn’t venture out until the saloons opened. In Brownsville there was absolutely nothing to do except frequent the saloons, drinking and gambling. It was a few minutes past noon when the trio left on foot. By the time they reached town, the saloons would be open. Reaching the American, they went inside. Danielle waited a few minutes before following. She went in through the batwing doors, stepping aside until her eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior. Besides the trio of outlaws who had just entered, there were four other men bellied up to the bar.

“That’s Daniel Strange that just come in,” Dirk said quietly. “He must have followed Malo and me across the border and then followed the three of us back to Brownsville. He must want you almighty bad.”

“I’m still not convinced he ain’t a ranger,” said Kalpana, “but they can’t string me up any higher for killing a second one. You, there by the door. I’m Kalpana, and I hear you have been looking for me. Is it asking too much for you to tell me why, señor?”

When Danielle spoke, her voice was low and deadly, and even in the gloom of the saloon, her eyes were like green fire.

“You and your bunch of yellow coyotes hanged my pa in Indian Territory last spring. I’m going to give you more of a chance than you gave him.”

“No gunplay in here,” the barkeep shouted, taking a sawed-off shotgun from beneath the bar. “I’ll cut down the first one of you makin’ a move. Take your fight outside.”

None of the three outlaws moved. Quickly, Danielle stepped through the batwing doors to the boardwalk outside. Crossing to the other side of the dusty street, she leaned against a hitch rail, waiting. Snakehead Kalpana stepped out on the boardwalk, his two companions moving out of the line of fire. Something about an impending disaster drew men like flies to a honey jug, and observers were already everywhere, some of them looking out upstairs windows for a better view.

“When you’re ready, Kalpana,” said Danielle, still leaning against the hitch rail.

A chill crept up Kalpana’s spine. The kid was just too confident. But Kalpana had taken money for the job, and he had placed himself in a position where he dared not back down.

“This will be a fair fight,” Sheriff Duro shouted. “Any man pullin’ a gun besides these two and I’ll gun you down myself.”

Most of the observers were aware that Kalpana was an undesirable who had killed a Texas Ranger, and they waited in anticipation. Eyes darted from Kalpana to Danielle, and back again. Danielle made no move, for Kalpana had issued the challenge. It would be up to him when he chose to draw. Finally, just when it appeared he might not draw, he did. He was fast. Incredibly fast. But Danielle Strange was faster. Without seeming to move, the butt-forward Colt from her left hip was in her hand, spouting flame. Her first slug ripped into Kalpana’s chest as he pulled the trigger, and his shot went wild. Stumbling backward, he leaned against the saloon’s front wall, raising his Colt. Danielle fired again, and Kalpana collapsed on the boardwalk. Her eyes on the bystanders, Danielle punched out the empty shell casings and reloaded her Colt, returning the weapon to its holster on her left hip.

There was murmuring among the crowd who had observed the fight, and Danielle chose to wait until it subsided before making a move. Sheriff Duro came to her aid.

“All of you break it up and get back to what you was doing,” Duro shouted.

Dirk and Malo stared in disbelief at the body of Snakehead Kalpana.

“By God, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it,” Dirk said.

“Me neither,” said Malo. “I’ve never seen a cross-hand draw as fast as that. I wouldn’t go up against that little hellion with anything less than a Gatling gun.”

Sheriff Duro had Kalpana’s body taken to the carpenter shop, where a coffin would be built. He then returned to the bank building and knocked on the door to McCandless’s office.

“Come in,” McCandless said.

Sheriff Duro closed the door before he spoke.

“Kalpana’s dead,” said Sheriff Duro. “This Daniel Strange is the fastest gun I ever saw. He didn’t get a scratch. What do we do now?”

“Kalpana had five hundred dollars of my money in gold,” McCandless said. “I want it back.”

“I took it off him,” said Sheriff Duro, digging a handful of coins from his pocket.

The sheepish look on Duro’s face told McCandless that the sheriff had intended to keep the money, but McCandless let it pass. Feeling the need to change the subject, it was the sheriff who spoke.

“Strange has done what he come here to do. He’ll be leaving.”

“He won’t be goin’ anywhere,” McCandless said. “I want you to find me a dozen men, all good with guns. I’ll pay fifty dollars a day and provide ammunition. The man who guns down Daniel Strange gets a thousand-dollar bonus.”

“Kalpana was no slouch with a Colt,” said Sheriff Duro, “and him layin’ dead may make it hard as hell finding gunmen to go after the kid.”

“I’m leaving that up to you, and I want it done today,” McCandless said. “We have to get the kid before he rides on.”

“I’ll do the best I can,” said Sheriff Duro. “You want me to send these hombres to see you?”

“Hell no,” McCandless growled. “The last thing I want is a bunch of killers coming to and from here.” He handed Sheriff Duro a canvas sack. “There’s six hundred and fifty dollars in here. That’s enough for a first day’s pay for a dozen men, and fifty dollars for you to buy the necessary ammunition.”

It was clear enough, and Sheriff Duro had his hand on the doorknob when McCandless spoke again.

“One more thing. I want you to telegraph every Texas Ranger outpost. Tell them that Snakehead Kalpana, who killed the ranger in Laredo, is dead. That should keep them away from here.”

“There’s a price on his head,” said Sheriff Duro. “Suppose they want proof?”

“Then they’ll have to dig up his carcass and study it to their satisfaction,” McCandless said. “If they got to know who killed him, all you know is that it was a gunslinger who was passing through and has since rode on.”

“Yeah,” said Sheriff Duro, “you’re layin’ it all on my back. The damn rangers are goin’ to wonder how long Kalpana’s been here, and why, when he got his, it was at the hand of another outlaw.”

“Then damn it, tell the truth,” McCandless snarled. “Tell ’em it was a revenge killing for Kalpana’s part in a murder in Indian Territory. That won’t reflect on us, and we’ll see that they don’t find Daniel Strange. Now get going.”

Danielle returned to the Delaney house, let down and without any sense of triumph. It had been the anticipation of avenging her father’s death that had led her on, but when a man, even the likes of Snakehead Kalpana, lay dead, she was strangely remorseful. To her mind came some Bible scripture she had learned long ago: Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. She found Ephiram and Ethel Delaney on the front porch.

“We heard shootin’,” Ephiram said. “We wondered if you was involved.”

“I was,” said Danielle. “Snakehead Kalpana heard I was looking for him and came after me. I reckon I’ll be ridin’ on tomorrow.”

“We’ll miss you,” Ethel said. “I hate to rent to this dirty, unwashed bunch around here and from across the border. I’d swear some of ’em ain’t had a bath since the flood.”

“Wake me for supper,” Danielle said. “I’m going upstairs to rest.”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” said Ephiram when Danielle had gone, “but I simply can’t believe old man McCandless won’t try something to avenge his no-account son. This young man, Daniel Strange, ought to be riding out today, getting as far from here as he can.”

“It’s curious you should speak of that,” Ethel said. “I’m wondering if somebody didn’t pay Kalpana to kill Daniel Strange. Someone with a reason for wanting Daniel dead.”

“We know who that someone is,” said Ephiram, “and it’s best we say no more about it. We got to live here.”

Removing her boots, gun belts, and hat, Danielle stretched out on the bed. Dead tired, she found herself unable to sleep, for a sense of foreboding had her in its clutches and wouldn’t let go. After several hours she got up. Donning her hat, tugging on her boots, and buckling on her gun belts, she went downstairs. There was no sign of Ephiram, but Ethel was in the parlor.

“Do be careful,” Ethel warned. “It may not be over.”

“That’s what I aim to find out,” said Danielle. “I’ll be back for supper.”

The town seemed strangely silent. Danielle visited some of the saloons, receiving only curious looks. Meanwhile, Sheriff Duro had a dozen hard-eyed men crammed into his small office. They leaned against the walls, avoiding the windows. Every man packed at least one revolver, while some had two.

“Fifty dollars a day, plus ammunition,” Sheriff Duro said, “and I got your first day’s pay. All you got to do is gun down this Daniel Strange. The hombre that cuts his string gets a thousand-dollar bonus.”

“I reckon we know who’s bankrollin’ this,” said one of the men. “I think the hombre we’re bein’ paid to kill done the town a favor. I ain’t never liked McCandless’s big-mouthed kid.”

“Me neither,” another man said.

“This is business,” said Sheriff Duro. “Money business.”

“Well, I ain’t about to brace this Daniel Strange in no standup, face-to-face fight,” one of the men said. “Kalpana was a fast gun, but he didn’t have a prayer.”

“Nobody said you got to face him,” Sheriff Duro said. “Hell, there ain’t nothin’ honorable about bushwhacking a man. Shoot him in the back.”

“I’ve seen some dirty, stinking, low-down coyotes in my day,” said one of the men, “but this is the first time I’ve seen a lawman pay to have a man dry gulched.”

“This is a wide-open town,” Sheriff Duro said, “and things are done different here. If it wasn’t for me and certain others, the whole damn lot of you would be rotting behind bars somewhere. If this Daniel Strange is allowed to ride out of here, he’s likely to go to the nearest ranger outpost and tell them he gunned down Kalpana. Rangers have a way of figurin’ things out. They’re likely to wonder how long Kalpana was here, without the law layin’ a hand on him, and how many more there may be just like him.”

“I reckon that makes sense,” said one of the gunmen. “We got to stop the varmint.”

There was mostly agreement among the rest of the outlaws, except for Malo and Dirk.

“Duro,” said Dirk, “you’d better be right. If I end up with my neck in a noose, I aim to see that you’re hanging beside me from the same damn limb.”

“Damn right,” Malo said. “You ain’t pullin’ the trigger, but you’re as much a killer as any one of us.”

Sheriff Duro swallowed hard. If the worst happened, and Daniel Strange escaped, the town might be invaded by a company of Texas Rangers. Simon McCandless had wisely used Duro to arrange the killing of Daniel Strange, and would in no way be implicated, unless Sheriff Duro talked. He quickly reached the unhappy conclusion that even if he talked, he would still be neck-deep in trouble. There was no way he could accuse McCandless of anything without admitting that he, Duro, had arranged it.