Ralph Compton - Death Rides a Chestnut Mare

“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.”