Savage. Part 27

"I was thrown from a train, actually. I had a bit of a row with a fellow, and he chucked me overboard."

"How come ya talk funny?"

"Do I?"

"Yup. You some kind of an easterner?"

"My home's in London, England."

A corner of his mouth turned up. "I'll be durned," he said.

"Trevor Wellington Bentley," I introduced myself, and held my hand out toward him.

Instead of shaking it, he touched the barrel of his revolver to the brim of his hat. "Chase Calhoun, here."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Calhoun."

"Well, don't get too too pleased. I reckon I'll have to shoot you." pleased. I reckon I'll have to shoot you."

All of a sudden, I felt mighty short of breath. But I managed to say, "I do hope that won't be necessary."

"Thing is, w.i.l.l.y, you got in the way. Me and the boys, we're fixing to hold up the express."

He wasn't alone, then. That didn't come as any great surprise. Working the rail loose would've been a big job for just one man. I figured the rest of his gang must be waiting in the gully.

"You'll be causing a terrible wreck," I explained.

"We can't rob the train without we stop it first."

"You might send one of your compatriots up the tracks to wave it down. Otherwise, there's bound to be an awful loss of life. Women and children. I shouldn't like to have that on my conscience."

"Well, you won't." With that, he aimed the revolver at my face and thumbed back the hammer.

"I might be of some use to you," I said.

"Don't see how."

"I could ride with your gang, perhaps. I could run errands, perform ch.o.r.es, cook for you. I make quite a fine pot of coffee, actually. Why, there's no end to the things I might do to help. I might care for your horses. And I'm really quite an amusing chap. Why, I sailed across the Atlantic with a cutthroat worse than any ten train robbers, and he spared my life for no other reason than he didn't want to lose the enjoyment of my company."

It was a stretcher, but I would've said just about anything to stop Chase from pulling the trigger.

"You sure run on," he said.

"You seem like a fine fellow."

"You're all right, too, w.i.l.l.y. I won't get no pleasure outa plugging you, but..."

"You certainly don't look look like an Indian lover." like an Indian lover."

He hadn't looked fearsome before. When he heard me say that, though, his face twisted ugly. "Say your prayers."

"If you shoot me, that's exactly what you are. No better than a b.l.o.o.d.y Indian Indian lover." lover."

"My folks folks was ma.s.sacred by the Sioux, boy!" was ma.s.sacred by the Sioux, boy!"

"And my best friend was General Matthew Forrest of the Fifth Cavalry."

The hammer dropped.

Real slow, hooked by Chase's thumb.

"You knew General Forrest?"

"We were great chums. He took me into his home. I was present at his deathbed. Until last night, I was traveling in the company of his granddaughter, Sarah."

"Well, let's see what the boys have to say. Move along."

He rode alongside me as I walked to the edge of the gully. The bridge crossed a river, just as I'd figured. Over by the sh.o.r.e, the "boys" were waiting. Chase dismounted, and led his horse down the slope, which wasn't steep enough to give me much trouble.

His gang stood by their horses and watched us come. Four of them, not counting Chase. A couple of them pointed at me and said things I couldn't make out, and laughed. The other two didn't seem amused.

"This here's w.i.l.l.y," he said when we got close.

"Trevor, actually."

"Whatcha wearing there, w.i.l.l.y?" asked one of those who'd pointed. He looked not much older than me. I found out later he was Chase's kid brother, Emmet.

"I was thrown from a train last night," I told him.

"He's from England," Chase said. "Allows as he's a friend of Matthew Forrest."

"General Forrest?" asked an older fellow named John McSween who had a big, droopy mustache that had some gray in it.

"I saved his life," I said. Another stretcher, but I figured it couldn't hurt my cause.

"Don't see how the General'd need need a lad the likes of you to save him," McSween said. a lad the likes of you to save him," McSween said.

"Why, a scurvy coward tried to back-shoot him on the streets of Coney Island," I said. "I called out a warning, and Matthew whirled around and emptied his revolver into the cad. Dropped him like an old boot, he did. Matthew presented me with a gold watch to show his grat.i.tude. I would show it to you, but it's with the rest of my possessions aboard the train."

"What're we gonna do with him?" Emmet asked his brother.

"Well, I was fixing to shoot him down, only then he took to claiming how he's a buddy of the General."

A huge, red-faced fellow named Breakenridge said, "Buddy or not, we can't chance him. He's had a good look at us."

"I told him my name, to boot."

"I reckon that settles it, then," said a weasel-faced fellow with red hair. They called him Snooker, and I never learned his true name. "I'll do the honors." He pulled a Winchester out of his saddle holster and worked its lever.

Before he could swing the barrel my way, McSween clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hold your water there, pal. I rode with Matthew Forrest. This lad saved his hide, he's aces with me."

"I don't reckon he's ever even met met your General," Emmet said. "He knows he's in a fix. Likely just a pack of lies." your General," Emmet said. "He knows he's in a fix. Likely just a pack of lies."

"Can you prove you ain't lying to us?" Chase asked me.

"I could tell you how his wife, Mable, saved him from the Apaches and caught a dozen or more arrows in the backside for her troubles. She walked with a limp to her dying day."

"She's pa.s.sed on?" McSween asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Matthew, too."

"I'm right sorry to hear the news." Turning to Chase, he said, "I don't see as how it'd be right and proper to shoot this lad. He ain't fibbing. Mrs. Forrest sure enough had a hitch to her gait. The story went, she got it fighting Indians when her and the General got ambushed."

"I'd be honored to join the gang," I said. "You wouldn't need to split the booty with me."

"We don't have a mount to spare," Chase explained.

"Well," said McSween, "I reckon he might double up with me. Either that, or we oughta let him go on his way."

"Where you trying to get to, w.i.l.l.y?" Chase asked.

"Tombstone. I was traveling there with Sarah Forrest..."

"Tombstone! Why, that's clear down in Arizona Territory. You won't get there riding with us."

"It's a mite far to hike with nothing but rags on your feet," McSween said.

"Actually, I was simply hoping to reach the next railroad depot."

"How come we don't let him stay with the train?" McSween suggested. "They'll get it running again, by and by. He can ride on along with it."

"He knows us," Snooker whined.

"I won't betray you. You have my word as a gentleman on that. However, I'm afraid the train won't be fit to take me anywhere. As I explained to Mr. Calhoun, it's likely to be demolished in the crash."

They all glanced about at each other.

"That's what he told me, all right," Chase said. "He seems to believe it'll run smack down into the gorge, here."

"What does he he know about such business," Emmet muttered, scowling my way. know about such business," Emmet muttered, scowling my way.

"We've derailed four trains already," Chase said, "and never a one of them crashed much."

"Have you ever done it this close to a gorge?" I asked him.

"I'm afraid the lad has a point," McSween said. "Perhaps we ought've pulled the rail a hair farther off from the bridge. If she comes along under a full head of steam, who's to say but what she won't won't sail down here? We don't wanta be the ones to cause a wreck, you know." sail down here? We don't wanta be the ones to cause a wreck, you know."

"They'd make it mighty hot for us," Chase agreed.

"What we oughta do," McSween said, "is ride on up the tracks a distance and yank a rail there."

"I'm sure it would save a number of innocent lives," I said.

Snooker commenced to complain, and Emmet took his side. But Chase put an end to the protests when he pulled a watch from his s.h.i.+rt pocket. "The express'll be along in fifteen, twenty minutes. We ain't got time to fool with another rail. What we'll do, we'll post w.i.l.l.y down the tracks so he can try and wave her down. She might brake for a boy in a nights.h.i.+rt. That'll slow her down enough so she won't go over the edge."

"He'll warn 'em, Chase."

"I trust that he won't," McSween said, giving me a friendly nod.

I nodded back at him.

Chase mounted up, then reached a hand down for me. I grabbed hold, and he hauled me up behind him. I lost the sleeve off one foot and had to squirm and kick some to get myself aboard. What with my state of dress, it caused considerable amus.e.m.e.nt for the audience below. Emmet and Snooker hooted and whistled and made remarks. McSween handed the sleeve up to me so I could put it on later.

I hung on tight to Chase as the horse carried us up the slope. I had saddle bags under me. They were leather, and hot from the sun, so they didn't feel good against my skin.

But I didn't mind the discomfort much. I was rather pleased with myself, actually. I'd managed to hang on to my life. It looked like the train might not crash, after all. And riding sure did beat walking.

I had my arms around Chase's waist. I gave some thought to going for his guns. They were in easy reach. If I was quick enough, I might be able to disarm him. Make him climb down. Then I could take his horse on up the tracks, meet the train and prevent the robbery altogether.

Why, I'd be quite a hero. I judged the railroad would likely be so grateful I might get a free ride all the way to Tucson.

I couldn't bring myself to try it, though. Too risky. But also, it seemed too lowdown. I didn't care at all for the rest of the gang, but I rather liked Chase and McSween. They'd put their trust in me. It just wasn't in me to do them dirty.

By and by, Chase said, "I reckon this is far enough." He halted his horse and helped me to the ground. "Have a try, w.i.l.l.y. But if she stops and you tell on us, folks are likely to end up dying. You'll be one of 'em."

"I'll simply explain that I need a ride," I told him.

Then he trotted off, raising dust. I tied the sleeve around my foot. By the time I got done, Chase was almost to the bridge. I watched until he rode down the slope and vanished.

More than likely, n.o.body had an eye on me. I was no longer in the clutches of the outlaws. And I figured they weren't likely to hunt me down if I took a notion to race down the embankment and hightail into the woods. I'd be shut of them, and free.

It wouldn't hurt them any.

Sure would hurt the folks aboard the express, though.

Besides, I'd be missing my chance to see a gang of real desperados rob a train.

So I stayed there by the tracks.

Pretty soon, a whistle tooted way off in the distance.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.