Ralph Compton - Death Rides a Chestnut Mare

“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.