Riders on the Wind Page 3

  ‘If you’re wrong they could be anywhere,’ Riley said.

  Hauck glanced at Birds Landing. ‘Believe me, she can follow a trail better than a bloodhound. She’s a Nez Percé. And when it comes to it, I ain’t so very far behind.’

  Time passed and the train remained stationary. The buckboard moved away and after a time the door to their carriage opened and two more passengers got in. One was a man in his twenties with a stubbled face, the other was an older man, wearing a frock-coat which seemed too big for him and a stovepipe hat which sat uncomfortably atop his head. The old man acknowledged Hauck and his companions with a brief nod and sat in a seat opposite. The other man moved towards the front of the carriage. Riley watched them unconcernedly, then turned back to Hauck.

  ‘If you don’t mind me askin’,’ he said, ‘but how long have you two been together?’

  ‘Thirty-five years,’ Hauck replied.

  ‘That’s a real long time. You must have seen some changes?’

  ‘Sure have. Things is altogether different now.’

  ‘What made you come out this way?’

  Hauck didn’t mind the young man’s questions. ‘Ever hear of Kemble Rheinhardt?’ he asked.

  Riley looked blank.

  ‘Rheinhardt’s Travellin’ Wild West Show?’ Hauck prompted.

  ‘Don’t mean nothin’ to me.’

  ‘Well, Rheinhardt is the proprietor of a kinda circus show that acts out scenes from what folks back East like to call the Wild West. To cut a long story short, me an’ Birds Landing – Julia that is – got ourselves employed. We put on a little feature about mountain men and the openin’ up of the Rocky Mountains. Don’t get me wrong. It was a good livin’ and we weren’t complainin’. The few occasions we met Rheinhardt he treated us real well. But I could see that Birds Landing wasn’t too happy and I was beginnin’ to feel that way myself.’

  He paused and Birds Landing took up the story. ‘We was in some place near Buffalo. We done our act and then we just walked out on it all,’ she concluded.

  ‘It’s hard to put into words,’ Hauck said, ‘but since we left I’ve done some thinkin’ and I reckon I’ve figured it out. You see, we was doin’ things in that act which we done for real when we were young. It kinda took the starch out of it. It almost seemed like we was betrayin’ ourselves in some way. Guess I ain’t makin’ much sense.’

  Riley shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I think I see what you mean. Kinda like a burlesque.’

  ‘It was underminin’ what we’d done in our past. Anyways, we decided we’d had enough and so we started back west.’

  ‘And that’s when you met me,’ Riley said. ‘Gee, I sure seem to have messed up your plans.’

  ‘We’re still headin’ west,’ Hauck said. ‘Guess we’re just takin’ a detour.’

  Further conversation was interrupted by the blowing of a whistle and, with what sounded like a small explosion under the wheels, the train began to roll forward. Dense clouds of smoke billowed past the window. There was a sudden jolt and the train came to a temporary halt before beginning to move again, building up speed to a steady twenty miles an hour. Hauck glanced at the others.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Should take us about three-quarters of an hour to reach the bridge over the creek. You know what to do if the train is attacked.’

  The others nodded. Riley’s face was grim; Hauck could tell how nervous he had become and for a fleeting moment wondered whether he had done the right thing to bring him along. Maybe he should have left him at Prairie Junction. Maybe they should have ridden to the creek and not boarded the train at all. It was too late now to do anything about it.

  The train was moving smoothly, creeping like an ant steadily across the dreary landscape. Hauck watched through the window, looking for any sign of activity; eventually he stood up and without a word to the others moved through the intervening carriages to the front of the train. Soon after that Birds Landing rose and made her way to the platform at the back. The train rattled on. Suddenly there was another lurch and the carriages seemed to slow. Looking forward, Hauck saw that the engine was moving away from the railcars. It was a strange sensation and at first he didn’t know what had happened. The carriages seemed to be gliding along while the gap between them and the engine widened. The thick black smoke which had been streaming from the smokestack grew thinner. The railcars were slowing perceptibly now and Hauck realized what had happened. Someone had detached the cars from the engine! At the same moment a hubbub of sound assailed his ears. There were shouts from the carriage in which most of the migrants were situated. The train whistle blew and then, from somewhere off to the side, there came the sound of galloping horses. Looking ahead, Hauck could see willow trees and cottonwoods. They had reached the creek; the engine had already crossed by the wooden bridge and was coming to a halt on the other side.

  Having been temporarily disorientated, Hauck was fully aware now of what was happening. A shot rang out, clanging against metal, and then another thudded into the wood of the railcar. Out of the smoke a rider appeared. Instinctively Hauck raised his rifle and returned fire. The rider fell from the horse and Hauck could see the look of surprise in his eyes. He had not expected any opposition. More shots rang out from the rear of the train, where Hauck could see another rider. From the trees by the side of the stream more horsemen broke cover, and as Hauck blasted away with his Winchester he saw spurts of flame come from the middle of the train. Riley had opened up on the outlaws. The carriages were still moving but eventually came to a halt just after the bridge where the railroad track took a slight incline.

  The scene in front of Hauck was extremely confused. Shots were ringing out but it was difficult to make sense of what was happening for all the smoke swirling about. Seizing hold of a stanchion, Hauck placed his foot on a window ledge and, reaching up, hauled himself on to the roof of the train. Now he had a better idea of how the fight was progressing and it didn’t look good. Horses and men were lying in the dust but there seemed to be many more riders than he had reckoned on and he could only surmise that the gang they had been following had been joined by other gunslicks.

  Some of the gunmen had reached the train and were swinging themselves on board. There were shots from inside the carriage and the sound of screams. Doubled over, Hauck ran to the opposite end of the train where Birds Landing had taken up her position, shooting as he went. There were only four cars but it seemed like an aeon till he reached the end. He dreaded what he might find and felt an enormous sense of relief to see Birds Landing below him, firing rapidly at the oncoming riders. He jumped down beside her.

  ‘Hauck!’ she shouted. ‘Look! There are too many of them!’

  Hauck looked up and in the distance he could see more riders galloping towards them.

  ‘Keep shootin’!’ he shouted. ‘But keep your head down!’

  His rifle was empty and he drew his revolvers. He moved into the railcar. Two of the owlhoots were coming towards him and a bullet whined past his head. He fell sideways on to a vacant seat, fanning the hammer of his Colt as he did so. Screaming passengers were squeezing themselves into the corners of the seats to try to avoid being hit. Both outlaws reeled back and collapsed to the floor. Hauck jumped up and ran forward, pushing past their dead bodies which were partially blocking the gangway. One of them he recognized. It was the young man who had joined their carriage in Prairie Junction. Hauck guessed it was he who had decoupled the cars.

  When he reached the car he had occupied with Birds Landing and Riley, he was dismayed to see Riley lying back on the seat. When he reached him, however, Riley waved him away. There was blood coming from a shoulder wound but it wasn’t serious. Moving painfully, Riley began to fire out of the window again. Hauck turned his head and saw one of the migrants blazing away. There was another burst of fire from outside the train and then the sound of someone shouting. Hauck had run back outside and now he was amazed to see the remaining gunmen begin to ride away from the train, turning to fire as they did so. Some of them seemed to be aiming in another direction. Hauck was baffled till suddenly Birds Landing appeared by his side.

  ‘Those riders!’ she shouted breathlessly. ‘They’re not more outlaws. It’s Marshal Harper with the posse!’

  Hauck looked back. Birds Landing was right. It was the posse and it now broke into two, some members riding in pursuit of the remaining outlaws and the other group coming towards the train. Hauck jumped down, quickly followed by Birds Landing. The engineer was running towards them from one side while the posse rode up on the other. Some of the passengers, realizing that the shooting was over, were climbing from the train. As the posse approached Hauck recognized the marshal, who jumped down from his horse before it had fully stopped.

  ‘Hauck!’ he gasped. ‘And Julia!’ Surprise was written all over his face and he looked even more nonplussed when he saw Riley coming towards them, clutching at his wounded shoulder. ‘What in tarnation are you doin’ on that train?’

  Hauck grinned. ‘Took you long enough to get here,’ he said. ‘That was cuttin’ it mighty close!’

  ‘Hell, we heard the shootin’ and came right on over. We figured those owlhoots were somewhere around.’

  When it came to reckoning up the damage, the outlaws had come out the worst. Four of them were dead and, apart from Riley, whose wound was not serious, only two of the passengers had sustained minor injuries. It was the element of surprise which had worked in Hauck’s favour. Still, they had been lucky. A lot of the passengers were in a state of shock and it took some time to restore a semblance of normality.

  By the time things had settled down and the engineer had recoupled the cars to the engine, the rest of the posse had returned, bringing with them a couple of wounded outlaws. It wasn’t too clear how many had escaped but probably not more than half a dozen. Some of them must have joined the original group at Prairie Junction or another meeting point. As far as Hauck was concerned, they were of no account. It was the original group, who had carried out the massacre, that concerned him, and they had been dealt with. Although it was a very minor matter by comparison, the insult to Bird’s Landing had been avenged. Even Riley, perhaps influenced in his attitude by his damaged shoulder, seemed to be willing to call it a day.

  ‘The rest of ’em won’t cause no more trouble, leastwise not round these parts,’ the marshal said. ‘I reckon they’ve been taught a lesson. Besides, I ain’t rightly sure I haven’t exceeded my jurisdiction. That might be the last posse I ever ride.’

  When the rest of the posse had returned and final preparations were being made for the train to continue on its way, Hauck noticed that the boxes he had observed being loaded earlier were being removed. Eventually the train started up to resume its interrupted journey, but Hauck and Birds Landing weren’t on it. Instead they agreed to ride with the posse back as far as Prairie Junction where Riley and the two injured passengers could receive proper treatment.

  When they arrived at Prairie Junction most of the posse elected to ride on. The marshal booked himself a night at the local hotel but couldn’t persuade Hauck and Birds Landing to do likewise.

  ‘Figure to spend the night under the stars,’ Hauck said. ‘Same as usual.’

  Riley also took a room, opting to return to Scott Corner next day with the marshal. He would have carried on with the rest of the posse but his wound needed attention. At the hotel there was a note waiting for Hauck, inviting him and Birds Landing to a meal that evening in the hotel dining room.

  ‘Well,’ Hauck said. ‘What’s this all about? I ain’t impressed with any cloak and dagger stuff.’

  ‘There’s only one way you’ll find out,’ the marshal said, ‘and that’s by bein’ there.’

  ‘Seems a bit odd. Especially comin’ in the wake of everythin’ else. Since you’re booked into the hotel, would you like to come along?’

  The marshal shook his head. ‘I’ve had enough excitement for now,’ he said. ‘Reckon I’d do better to stay with Riley. Besides, I’m not invited.’

  At seven that evening Hauck and Birds Landing turned up at the hotel and were shown to a corner table by a tired looking desk clerk. Hauck wasn’t pleased by the fact that whoever had arranged the meeting was not there. He was pacified to a limited extent when a waiter turned up with drinks, including a bottle of bourbon which he left on the table.

  Dusk had fallen and the restaurant was lighted with shaded lamps, giving the place an intimate and relaxed atmosphere which belied its usual condition. A young couple with a child of about ten were sitting at one table when they came in, but soon got up and departed, leaving Hauck and Birds Landing in sole possession. They both took a drink, enjoying the taste after all the time they had spent on the trail. When he had downed his second glass Hauck turned to Birds Landing.

  ‘I’ve about had it,’ he said. ‘Let’s you and me make a move.’

  Just as he was about to get to his feet a man appeared in the doorway and, hesitating for a brief moment, started towards them. Hauck watched the man approach. He wore a well-tailored suit of dark grey with a red waistcoat and bow tie. There was something about him that set Hauck on his guard.

  ‘Good evening,’ he said, taking a chair opposite to Hauck.

  Hauck nodded in acknowledgement and Birds Landing smiled.

  ‘I understand you had some trouble earlier on the train,’ the man said.

  ‘It was nothin’,’ Hauck replied.

  There was a spare glass and Hauck offered the man a drink. He took a long sip and then sat back in his chair.

  ‘You’re probably wonderin’ what this is all about,’ he said.

  Hauck did not respond.

  ‘Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Howard K Robbins and I act on behalf of Mr Kemble Rheinhardt.’

  He had Hauck’s attention now, although Hauck’s features gave nothing away.

  ‘I believe you are acquainted with Rheinhardt’s Travelling Wild West Show?’

  ‘Sure,’ Hauck said.

  ‘Mr Rheinhardt himself is currently overseeing some important business in Europe, otherwise he would have been here in person.’

  Hauck was silent. Robbins glanced at Birds Landing but her face was blank and her brown eyes seemed distant.

  ‘Let me come to the point,’ he said. ‘You were recently in the employ of Mr Rheinhardt. In fact, you were one of the main contributors to the success of the show. I can tell you that you both made a deep and positive impression on Mr Rheinhardt. That’s the main reason why he now seeks your assistance in a rather delicate matter.’

  He paused, took another sip of bourbon, then resumed his discourse.

  ‘As you may or may not know, Mr Rheinhardt is a widower. Since his wife died he has devoted himself to bringing up their daughter, Eustacia. She is now sixteen years old and until recently has been attending a school for young ladies in Boston.’

  ‘Why do you say until recently?’ Hauck interposed.

  ‘Because about a week ago she disappeared from school and Mr Rheinhardt is only just in receipt of information as to her whereabouts. It seems she has been kidnapped and is currently being held for ransom, we think somewhere in the Blue Smoke Mountains.’

  Hauck glanced at Birds Landing.

  ‘Sure,’ the man said. ‘Nez Percé territory, or used to be. Mr Rheinhardt has done his research.’

  ‘That’s pretty specific,’ Hauck said.

  ‘Not so specific,’ Robbins replied. ‘The Blue Smokes cover a lot of territory.’

  ‘But why there rather than anywhere else?’

  ‘A friend of Mr Rheinhardt who once worked for Pinkerton’s traced her as far as Pine Hollow. That much was quite easy.’

  ‘Then why doesn’t this friend carry on searchin’ for the young lady?’

  ‘For the simple reason that he’s dead. He was shot. Might have been a coincidence. We think not. He sent a telegram before he died saying he was preparing to go up in to the mountains and wanting to know if Mr Rheinhardt was prepared to finance him in that enterprise.’

  ‘You say she’s being held for ransom,’ Hauck said. ‘That means you’ve heard from the kidnappers?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘How much do they want?’

  Robbins finished his drink before replying. ‘That is the unusual part,’ he said. ‘They are not asking for payment in money. They want it in the form of stamps.’

  ‘Stamps?’ Hauck queried.

  ‘In particular, a collection of United States Provisionals.’ Seeing the puzzled look on the faces of Hauck and Birds Landing, Robbins continued: ‘You may not realize it, but stamps are becoming quite valuable. Timbromania is a very popular pastime. Let me tell you about these particular stamps. Congress did not authorize the issue of stamps till 1847. Prior to that postmasters made provisional issues. Apparently these are becoming very collectable and people who know anything about such things regard them as being an excellent investment. Provisionals were issued in ’45 and ’46 by Baltimore, New York, New Haven, Annapolis, Battleboro and Lockport, among other places, and Mr Rheinhardt has a number of them.’

  ‘But surely they could ask for money and then buy the things?’

  Robbins shrugged. ‘I guess so, but that would take a lot of time and effort. Seems like whoever has taken Eustacia is more interested in having a ready-made collection.’

  ‘And you want Birds Landing and me to take the stamps and find the kidnappers?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it.’

  ‘What else do we know about the kidnappers?’

  ‘Nothing at all. The ransom note was posted in Pine Hollow.’

  ‘Have you got it there with you?’

  Robbins fished about in his jacket pocket for a moment before coming up with a folded envelope which he passed across to Hauck. Hauck took a letter from it which he and Birds Landing perused together.

  ‘Good quality paper,’ Robbins said. ‘It seems it was done on a new Oliver typewriting machine.’