Adam Steele 28 by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman [Gilman, George G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: American westerns, Best western ebook, Edge, Piccadilly cowboys, Spaghetti westerns, Steele, Terry Harknett
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2022-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

EVENTS IN THE shape of the Union advance overtook D Troop as they headed for Rocky Face Ridge during that day when the rain alternately lashed or fell as a drifting drizzle on the Georgia countryside. And by the time the column of ten cavalrymen came within sight of Rocky Face Ridge, the Confederate army had withdrawn, falling back south of Dalton to the town of Resaca some twelve miles down the Western and Atlantic Railroad.

A simple flanking move by Sherman’s Yankees had triggered the fall back of Johnston’s Rebels, but Adam Steele did not know this as, from a forward scouting position, he made a grim-faced survey of the small community of Dalton. All he saw was a concentration of Union troops and supplies, expanding by the minute, occupying a Georgia town which showed hardly a sign of battle.

And when he returned to the hollow where the troopers waited in a bedraggled group a mile or so north-east of Dalton, his feelings about what he had seen obviously showed on his face.

‘It’s not good, sir?’ Grady asked, holding the reins of the gelding as the Virginian dismounted.

‘It stinks, Sergeant,’ Steele answered harshly.

Their clothes heavy with rain and their flesh chilled by the day-long ride through the foul weather, the men were abruptly angry in their disappointment that warm shelter, hot food and much needed sleep in a safe place were not to be their reward.

‘Aw, shit!’ Barlow snarled.

‘You mean we ain’t gonna be able to get into town?’ Trotter added.

‘So even if that Yankee officer had spilled his guts, it wouldn’t have made no difference at all,’ Levy groaned.

This was the first time the torture and death of Captain Grogan had been mentioned by the men; at least within earshot of Lieutenant Adam Steele. Who now whirled toward the Jewish trooper and snarled: ‘If war was pretty, we’d all be having a fine time, feller!’

Startled, even fearful the Virginian might lash out a blow at him, Levy staggered back several paces. And Steele immediately regretted the violent outburst directed at the man who came closest to being a kindred spirit within the troop. For during the long, wet day in the aftermath of the killing of the Union spies, the Virginian had sensed Levy was experiencing a similar degree of remorse as was he. The trooper regretting the way he had allowed himself to be infected by the evil lust for violence that was a part of the veteran Barlow’s character. The lieutenant searching in vain for some kind of justification for not ending the life of Grogan as quickly as he had killed Hawkins.

It was purely coincidental that at the time of Levy’s complaint and Steele’s bitter retort, Sergeant Grady had handed the reins of the gelding to Barlow and stepped over to merge with the rest of the troop. Which physically set apart the two men who had displayed no sign of self-reproach from the group who were sickened by the horrifying incident, and the one guilty party who now recanted.

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