Ralph Compton - Death Rides a Chestnut Mare

“We don’t usually do this, Black Jack,” said the dealer. “I’ll grant you a hundred in credit for both of them.”

“Done,” Black Jack said. He sighed with relief as he suddenly began winning. When his winnings exceeded his losses, he dropped out and went to the bar. Danielle was ahead by fifty dollars, and when Black Jack left the saloon, she also withdrew from the game. Following Black Jack wasn’t difficult. He had left his horse and the pair of blacks at a livery, and to Danielle’s practiced eye, they indeed were worth a hundred dollars each, if not more. With the pair on lead ropes, Black Jack rode southeast, toward the border. Danielle followed at a safe distance, and not until she had crossed the border did she see Black Jack again. From behind a clump of brush, Black Jack suddenly stepped out, a Winchester leveled at her.

“Why are you followin’ me, kid? Make it good, or I’ll cut you in half.”

“I like the looks of the pair of blacks you picked up in Mexico,” Danielle said, “and I’d like to pick up a few for myself.”

Without warning, with blinding speed, Danielle drew her right-hand Colt and fired. The lead slammed into the muzzle of the Winchester, tearing it out of Black Jack’s hands. Her Colt holstered, Danielle eyed him calmly.

“Damn you,” Black Jack bawled, “if you’ve ruint my Winchester . . .”

Danielle laughed. “You’ll have to get yourself another one.”

Ignoring Danielle, Black Jack retrieved the weapon, examining it critically. Satisfied it wasn’t seriously damaged, he again faced Danielle.

“Tarnation,” said Black Jack, “I never seen such shootin’. Maybe there is as place for you, but it can’t be just on my say-so. You’ll have to prove yourself to my amigos. ”

“Lead on,” Danielle said.

The outlaw camp was only a few miles south of the border. As they approached, there was a nicker from a distant horse, and Black Jack’s horse responded. They rode on until they were challenged.

“Identify yourself,” a voice shouted.

“Black Jack,” the outlaw replied, “and I got company.”

“Dismount and leave your horses there,” the voice commanded.

Black Jack and Danielle dismounted. Ahead, in a small clearing beside a stream, stood four men. A coffeepot simmered over a small fire.

“Now,” one of the men said, “who are you, and why are you here?”

“During a faro game, I heard Black Jack talking about picking up that pair of blacks in Mexico,” said Danielle, “and I figured I’d like a hand in the game.”

One of the outlaws laughed. “A kid that ain’t even shaved, packin’ two guns. Boy, one of them Mejicanos will have you for breakfast.”

“I don’t think so,” said Black Jack. “I had the drop, had a Winchester coverin’ him, and without me seein’ him move, he shot the Winchester out of my hands.”

Danielle said nothing, waiting for the outlaws to digest this new revelation. Quickly, they reached a decision, and they nodded at Black Jack.

“Who are you, kid, and where you from?” Black Jack asked.

“I don’t answer to ‘kid,’ ” said Danielle. “I’m Daniel Strange, and I’m from Missouri.”

“I’m Black Jack Landis,” said the outlaw. “The others is Joel Votaw, Revis Bronson, Hez Deshea, and Wes Pryor. Joel’s our segundo. ”

“Black Jack,” Votaw said, “I’ve warned you about leading horses through El Paso. With so many Mejicanos there, sooner or later, one of them’s bound to recognize a horse, and then there’ll be hell to pay. From now on, when you got the urge to ride to town, ride from here.”

“Hell, there ain’t nobody wise to me,” said Black Jack.

“Oh?” Votaw said. “Then how come this two-gun man followed you back to camp? If he heard you shootin’ off your mouth, then others heard. Next time, the hombre trailing you could be a ranger.”

“After the war with Mexico, I’ve heard Americans can’t legally cross the border into Mexico, and that Mexicans can’t cross the border into the United States,” said Danielle.

“That’s the law,” Revis Bronson said, “but it applies only if you get caught. There was at least one ranger that stepped over the line, and he ain’t been seen since.”

“You don’t get shot at very often, then,” said Danielle.

Black Jack Landis laughed. “Almost never. We take the horses at night. By first light, when the Mejicanos find our tracks, we are already across the river, in Texas. Mejicanos raise some very fine horses, but they’re not fools. They don’t consider ’em worth a dose of lead poisoning.”

“I’ve heard talk that some sell Mexican horses in Texas, and Texas horses in Mexico,” Danielle said. “Anything to that?”

“Some do,” said Joel Votaw, “but we don’t. Believe me, there ain’t no love between the state of Texas and Mexico, and most Texans don’t give a damn what happens on the other side of the border. As it is, if things get touchy in Mexico, we can cross the river into Texas, and the Mexes can’t touch us. That could change almighty quick, if we was to run Texas horses across the border into Mexico.”

“Damn right it could,” Hez Deshea said.

“You’re avoiding the law in Texas,” said Danielle, “but what about Mexico?”

“Too much border,” Wes Pryor said. “There’s no way they can watch it all. Mejicanos cross the river into Texas, drivin’ Texas horses into Mexico. They can’t complain to the United States that Texans are violatin’ their boundaries, because they’re violatin’ the Texas boundary. That’s why nobody—not even the rangers—can stop it.”

“Why are you camped in Mexico instead of Texas?” Danielle asked.

“You ain’t earned the right to know that,” said Joel Votaw. “Not until you’ve told us the truth. What’s a younker that ain’t old enough to shave and totin’ two irons doin’ in old Mexico?”

Danielle sighed. None of these men were the killers she sought. She quickly decided to tell them the truth. Or most of it. She told them of her father’s murder and of her vow to track down the killers.

“I need money to continue my search,” Danielle said. “There’s seven more killers, and I’ll never find them if I have to stop regular for a thirty-and-found riding job.”

“That makes sense,” said Joel Votaw, “but how do we know if you throw in with us, you won’t shoot some hombre that’ll attract the attention of the law? We can’t allow that.”

“If there’s ever a possibility of the law stepping in, I’ll vamoose,” Danielle said.

Black Jack laughed. “I think we’d all vamoose if that happened.”

“The men I’m after are outlaws and killers,” said Danielle. “They’re not going to call on the law for help.”

“We been splittin’ the money equal,” Wes Pryor said. “If you join up with us, there’ll be less money, split six ways.”

“Show me what you’re doing,” said Danielle, “and I’ll pull my weight. Your share may be even more.”

“You’ve made a good case for yourself,” Joel Votaw said. “I think we’ll take you in for a while, as long as you don’t get gun-happy and draw attention to us.”

“I’ve never shot anybody except in self-defense,” said Danielle.

“Bueno,” Votaw said. “So far, we’ve took the horses we wanted without us doing any shooting. How good are you with horses?”

“I grew up with them,” said Danielle. “I trained the chestnut mare I’m riding.”

“We don’t take a whole herd of horses,” Votaw said, “because it’s hard to control a herd at night. Each of us will take two lead ropes and lead two horses away. Come first light, when they can follow our tracks, we’ll be across the border, in Texas.”