Riders on the Wind Page 2

  He looked round. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. He saw a stairwell and started up the stairs. Three rooms led off from the landing. He looked in each but there was nothing untoward. He knew that he would find no one in the house but he checked anyway. Whoever had done this was clear away by now. Below him he could hear Riley sobbing and moaning.

  He came back down the stairs, ran out into the yard and went round the house towards the barn at the back. The hog corral was alongside; the pigs had been slaughtered too. He turned back and entered the barn. It was very dark inside but he could see that there were stalls for horses. They were empty. He guessed that the killers had taken the horses with them.

  He looked about and it didn’t take him long to discover a piece of cloth attached to a wooden post by one of the stalls. Somebody had caught his sleeve while getting the horses out. He slipped it into his pocket, then made his way out of the barn. As he moved to the rear of the farm he could see plenty of sign indicating the passage of riders. He hadn’t noticed anything unusual in the way of tracks when they were coming along the road. It seemed like whoever had done this had ridden across country. He reckoned the tracks were already quite old. The attack on the farm had taken place in broad daylight while most of the people living near by were at the county fair.

  He made his way back to the house but did not go inside. Instead he made his way down the path to where Birds Landing was waiting with the horses and the buggy. Quickly he explained the situation to her. She already had a pretty good intuitive understanding of what had happened.

  ‘Give Riley some time and then I’ll go and get him. He can’t stay here. We’ll take him back to Hester’s farm.’

  They sat together in the buggy. The night was still and the sky seemed huge above the flat land. Presently they saw a figure emerge from the house, silhouetted against the light thrown from the lamp in the kitchen. Riley came down the path and stood by the side of the buggy, looking back at the house. He seemed to have recovered a measure of composure. Birds Landing went up to him and put her arm around his shoulder before helping him into the carriage. Hauck had tied their horses to the back of the buggy. He flicked the reins. The team responded and he manoeuvred the buggy so it was pointing back the way they had come. Nobody spoke till they reached Hester’s farm, then Birds Landing said to Hauck:

  ‘Why don’t you leave things here to me while you get back to town and roust out the marshal? Join me here later.’

  Hauck nodded. ‘Guess the quicker the marshal gets on to this the better,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll see to the buggy and the horses as well,’ she added.

  Hauck untied his own horse, stepped into the leather and set off down the road to town. He looked back once to see Birds Landing helping Riley up the path to the farmhouse. Light spilled on to the porch as the front door was opened.

  The marshal’s office was closed and Hauck had to ask a passer-by the way to his house. He lived in a small frame building on the edge of town and Hauck was relieved to see the lights were still on despite the lateness of the hour. He tied his horse to a hitchrack in the yard and knocked on the door. It was soon opened by a tall lady whom Hauck took to be the marshal’s wife. Quickly but without going into the gory details he outlined his purpose in calling so late. Before he had finished the marshal himself appeared in the doorway.

  ‘It’s Mr Hauck, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘It’s OK, Barbara. Come on in.’

  Hauck found himself in a cosy and tastefully decorated room. Barbara, realizing something serious was afoot, made her way to the kitchen to brew some coffee while Hauck explained what had happened at the farm. When he had finished the marshal looked grim.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ he said at last. ‘They were such decent folks. We’ve not had anything like this happen in years.’

  ‘It should be easy to follow the killers,’ Hauck said. ‘They’ve left a trail a mile wide.’

  ‘Who would do somethin’ like that?’ The marshal seemed bemused.

  ‘I got a hunch,’ Hauck said.

  The marshal looked at him.

  ‘Those three hombres this afternoon,’ Hauck continued. ‘Maybe there were others. Plenty people saw what happened. They might have known where Riley lived. They might have decided to exact a little revenge.’

  Barbara appeared with the coffee. She seemed even more upset than the marshal.

  ‘Poor Wendell,’ she said. ‘I’ve knowed his folks since I can’t remember when.’

  She poured black coffee into china cups. The marshal had been ruminating on Hauck’s words as he sipped the coffee.

  ‘You could be right,’ he said. ‘At least we ain’t got anythin’ else to work on. Now you mention it, there have been some mean-lookin’ hombres hangin’ about town just recently. I never gave it too much mind. Figured they was just a bunch o’ hardcases passin’ through. Apart from this afternoon, though, there ain’t been any real trouble. The county fair passed off just fine.’

  ‘If I’m right,’ Hauck said, ‘they’ve got to be round these parts for a reason. They was headin’ west. What’s the next town?’

  ‘That’d be Prairie Junction,’ the marshal said. ‘It’s a good ride.’

  ‘Prairie Junction?’

  ‘The spur line just reached that far,’ the marshal said. ‘They’re aimin’ to build the railroad out this way next.’

  ‘Thought they’d have done it by now,’ Hauck said. ‘Seems to be pretty well settled.’

  ‘That’s just it. I reckon they think we’re well catered for one way and another. More money to be made extendin’ into the West.’

  Hauck was thinking hard. ‘I got a personal stake in this,’ he said. ‘If it’s OK with you, Marshal, I think me and Julia will head for Prairie Junction. I’m pretty sure that’s where the trail will lead us anyway. If you can get up a posse first thing in the mornin’ then come on behind.’

  ‘What, you aimin’ to go right now?’ the marshal said.

  ‘No time like the present.’ Hauck turned to Barbara. ‘Thanks for the coffee, ma’am.’

  ‘It’s nothin’,’ she replied. ‘Won’t you stay for a bite to eat?’

  ‘That’s a real nice offer, but I’d best be on my way.’ He turned to the marshal. ‘Me an’ Julia may be old-timers but we know how to follow a trail. We’ll catch up with ’em even if you don’t.’

  ‘I’ll wire ahead,’ the marshal said.

  Hauck looked slightly nonplussed. ‘Whatever it takes,’ he said. He went out through the door and mounted his horse. ‘So long,’ he said.

  The marshal and his wife watched him gallop away. ‘You know,’ the marshal commented. ‘he might be an old-timer – and his woman too, but somehow I’d back them against any gang of outlaws you care to name.’

  When Hauck had taken the decision to ride off straight away, it was not entirely because he wanted to hit the trail early; it was because he didn’t want to involve the marshal or Barbara in anything untoward. Now, as he swung back down the road towards the Hester ranch, he was on the alert and his hand hovered over the Winchester .22-calibre pump-action repeater in its scabbard. When he was clear of town and about a third of the way back to the Hester farm he swung off the trail into a draw made shadowy by trees, listening carefully.

  At first he could hear nothing but the sighing of the wind in the branches, then he became aware of another sound: the muffled drumming of horses’ hoofs. He listened attentively. There were two riders and they were coming from the direction of the farm. Suddenly the shadow of a smile crossed his face. He recognized the sound of one of the horses; it was Birds Landing’s brown-and-white paint. It took him only a moment’s thought to work out that the other probably belonged to Riley and that he had persuaded Birds Landing to accompany him to town. He didn’t want to alarm them, so he touched his spurs to his horse’s flanks.

  At the same moment, as his horse stepped forward, there was a spurt of flame from above him and the crashing roar of a rifle shot which tore into the trunk of a nearby tree. In an instant he had sprung from the saddle and as another shot reverberated in the night he fired at the stab of flame with his long-barrelled Colt Cavalry revolver. There was a scream of anguish, then a body came hurtling out of a tree which overlooked the trail from town, landing on the earth with a loud thud. Hauck moved forward to where he had a better view of the body. It was clear that the man was dead.

  Hauck moved quickly back to his horse, swung himself into the saddle and, regaining the trail, rode to meet the approaching riders, who seemed to have temporarily halted in the aftermath of the shooting. He knew that Birds Landing would have recognized his own appaloosa and, sure enough, they were waiting for his arrival. When he had come alongside he explained what had happened.

  ‘The varmint must have been waitin’ for me comin’ back along the trail,’ he said. ‘But what are you doin’ here?’

  ‘Mr Riley didn’t want to wait around. He wants to find whoever was responsible for . . .’ Birds Landing hesitated.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Riley said. He turned to Hauck. ‘Like Julia says, I don’t want to waste any time. I want to find whoever killed my parents.’

  Hauck nodded. ‘I can understand that,’ he said.

  ‘I just can’t face the prospect of sittin’ about doin’ nothin’,’ Riley added.

  ‘I said I’d come with him to meet you,’ Birds Landing said.

  There was complete understanding between Birds Landing and Hauck. Again Hauck nodded. He turned to Riley.

  ‘What about Hester?’ he said. ‘She’s maybe needin’ some support right now.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be any good,’ Riley said. ‘Not feelin’ the way I do. Besides, she has her ma and pa.’

  There was silence for a moment in the wake of his words. br />
  ‘OK,’ Hauck said at last. ‘There’ll be some hard ridin’ and things could get real tough. Me an’ Julia, we can look after ourselves. But what about you? D’you reckon you’d be up to it?’

  Riley’s face looked taut in the moonlight. ‘Try me,’ he said.

  Hauck smiled briefly. ‘Yeah,’ he commented. He looked from Riley to Birds Landing.

  ‘What are we waitin’ for?’ he said. ‘Let’s ride.’

  Chapter Two

  They rode for a couple of hours before Hauck called a halt for the night. Riley was for carrying on but Hauck realized that they would be all the better in the morning for some rest. In fact it wouldn’t be too long until dawn broke. It had been a long and very hard day and night and it seemed an age since they had first helped Riley with his broken buggy. Birds Landing had been far-sighted enough to pack her saddlebags with provisions. Hauck reckoned they could stock up and acquire a saddle-horse somewhere along the line, probably at Prairie Junction. As soon as they had built a camp Riley succumbed to the strains and exertions of the past few hours and, despite himself, fell asleep. Hauck sat with Birds Landing.

  ‘We need to take extra care,’ he said.

  ‘You’re thinkin’ of that bushwhacker who lay in ambush for you?’

  ‘Yeah. They might just try somethin’ again.’

  After a time Hauck shook out a bedroll and climbed in. Birds Landing was about to join him when she glanced at the sleeping form of Riley.

  ‘He’s a big boy,’ Hauck said. ‘Besides, we’re married.’

  ‘Some people wouldn’t think so.’

  ‘The hell with what people think,’ Hauck said. ‘Since when have we worried about that?’

  Birds Landing smiled, then slipped in beside him. For a while neither of them spoke, then Birds Landing turned her face to Hauck’s.

  ‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’ she said.

  ‘Always does,’ Hauck said.

  She snuggled closer to him. ‘Not that. You know what I mean. Bein’ here, under the stars, headin’ back West.’

  Hauck looked down at her eager face. ‘Sure thing,’ he said. ‘We bin gone too long.’

  Two days’ riding brought them to Prairie Junction. It was well-named. Not only was it on the railroad but it lay on a divide between the farming country to the east and the open grasslands to the west. Already Hauck and Birds Landing were breathing more freely. They could feel the pull of the wilderness stretching away ahead of them. As if in acknowledgement of it, Birds Landing had changed her riding outfit for something more serviceable. There was plenty of sign indicating that the men they were pursuing had passed that way. Birds Landing gave her opinion that there were eight of them and that, in addition to their own mounts, they had a couple of packhorses.

  ‘If we’re right,’ Hauck said, ‘that makes a dozen of ’em all told, including the three in the drugstore and the one who was waitin’ to bushwhack me.’

  ‘Which means you’ve already dealt with a quarter of them,’ Riley commented.

  Hauck grinned. ‘Guess that’s right,’ he said. ‘Never was no good at arithmetic.’

  Hauck didn’t expect to find the gunslicks at Prairie Junction and he was right. They made enquiries but nobody had seen anything of them.

  ‘They had a start of us,’ he remarked, ‘but not a big one. Not more than twelve hours. I’d have maybe expected to catch ’em up along the way but they seem to be drivin’ on hell for leather.’

  Leaving their horses at the livery stable, the three of them made their way to the railroad track. There was little to be seen apart from the tank house, a tall windmill with its sails turning in the breeze, and a diminishing line of telegraph poles. A train was waiting on the tracks but there seemed to be little activity until, after a time, a man with a hammer appeared from a hut on the opposite side of the tracks and began hammering at something beneath the train. They made their way to where he was working.

  ‘Howdy,’ Hauck said.

  The man was bending over and now seemed to see them for the first time. Extricating himself from under the chassis, he straightened up.

  ‘Howdy.’ He wiped a hand across his brow. ‘Bet you cain’t guess what these wheels are made of?’ he said.

  Hauck shook his head.

  ‘Paper,’ the man said and, seeing the puzzled expression on Birds Landing’s face, went on, ‘that’s right. Paper. Leastways that’s what I heard. Maybe these is different. Someone told me that, properly prepared, paper is one of the toughest substances there is. Wheels are subjected to enormous amounts of hydraulic pressure. Wood cracks, steel becomes brittle. I guess paper’s not only strong but elastic too.’

  He paused, regarding them closely.

  ‘Afraid you’ve got a wait if it’s the train you’re wantin’,’ he said. ‘Ain’t due to leave till day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Where’s she headed?’

  ‘She’ll take you as far as Council Bluffs. That’s the terminus for the Chicago and North Western Railway. The Union Pacific will take you clear to San Francisco.’ He seemed to take a pride in giving out these details and with only a brief pause he began to muse reflectively.

  ‘Took me a ride one time. From Chicago. In a Pullman car. Ever been in one of those things? Spring mattress, linen sheets. And the food! Fresh fish caught at the last station along the way. Beefsteak, broiled chicken, hot rolls and cornbread. The places! Dixon, Clinton, Cedar Rapids, Woodbine, Council Bluffs, Omaha.’

  He reeled off the towns along the route with obvious relish before pulling himself up almost with a start.

  ‘But you folks probably got somethin’ better to do than hear me ramblin’ on.’

  ‘It’s interestin’,’ Hauck said.

  ‘Come back day after tomorrow. That is, if you’re plannin’ to take a ride.’

  They walked away but not in the direction of town. Instead Hauck started along the parallel lines of smooth shining rail which stretched straight across the featureless prairie, where only a few grazing cattle disturbed the empty silence of the morning. Riley was restless. Disappointed at not having encountered the outlaws in Prairie Junction, he was anxious to get back on the trail. Hauck seemed to have other ideas. After walking for some distance he suddenly stopped as if he had come to a conclusion.

  ‘I think we might just take a ticket to ride,’ he said.

  The next day Hauck and Birds Landing headed out of town, following the line of the tracks. The country was flat and desolate, with patches of ploughed earth and occasional clumps of trees. After about a dozen miles of riding they saw in the distance a low line of bluffs with a feathery fringe of cottonwoods and willows and when they got closer they saw that the railroad track ran across a narrow stream on a small trestle-bridge.

  ‘You figure those owlhoots might be aimin’ to ambush the train?’ Birds Landing said.

  ‘Yeah. And I reckon this is as good a spot as any.’

  ‘I figured that too. But we ain’t seen no sign.’

  Hauck raised himself in the saddle. As far as he could see the only movements were the shadows of clouds scudding across the prairie. ‘Maybe I got this all wrong,’ he said. Neither of them believed it.

  The following day presented something of a contrasting scene at the railhead. Things seemed positively bustling. In particular there was a small party of emigrants bound eventually for Cheyenne and Sioux City. Hauck, Birds Landing and Riley took their places in one of the carriages. The migrants and a few other passengers had occupied the three other carriages, so they had the compartment pretty much to themselves. As they waited for the train to start a buckboard pulled up and, leaning out of the carriage window, Hauck could see some boxes being loaded. Turning back to his companions, he said:

  ‘I think we made the right decision to catch the train.’ Birds Landing merely nodded but Riley looked bemused.

  ‘Listen,’ Hauck said. ‘I got a hunch that this train is carryin’ somethin’ valuable in those boxes, I don’t know what – money, bullion. I suspected somethin’ of the sort. Those outlaw varmints didn’t head this way without a reason. They’ve gone on beyond the town. I figure it’s a good bet they’ll be waitin’ somewhere down the line.’

  ‘What! You think they’re plannin’ to rob the train?’

  ‘I reckon there’s a good chance. If they do, we’ll be ready for ’em. If I’m wrong, we ain’t lost much. We can get back on their trail easy enough.’