The Floating Outfit 41 The Rushers by J.T. Edson

Author:J.T. Edson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 2019-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eight - Dusty’s Ultimatum

Three days went by after Bruno Lewis tried, and failed, to make his impression on Dusty Fog. The rushers no longer tried to cross the Belle Pourche in daytime for fear of being caught. The few who thought of trying at night mostly gave it up for only at certain points could a night crossing be chanced and there was rarely time to make a careful study of the lie of the land without the added risk of a patrol detecting them.

In Shacktown much had changed. The few rushers who remained had little money to throw around in the saloon or brothel. Bruno Lewis and his guns faced one group of indignant men but were forced to pay back money advanced for word of how to cross the Belle Pourche in safety. Lewis, in a cold rage, headed for the sutler’s and warned Madlarn to either learn where the patrols went—or else.

The threat left Madlarn in a real muck-sweat, for he knew Lewis did not warn without meaning to carry it out. Madlarn’s faith in himself had been severely shaken since his beating at the hands of the small Texan. His trust in the ability of Tuck and Kete had likewise undergone a reverse. He doubted if they would be capable of handling Bruno Lewis’ gunmen in the event of trouble.

So Madlarn laid his cards flat before Noreen when she came in for a morning session of love-making. He did his part and then, lying beside her on the bed, looked down and tried to put on his best charm.

‘You’ve got to find out where the patrols are, Noreen,’ he said.

Flat on her back, hair dishevelled and mouth hanging open a little as she caught her breath once more, Noreen Kallan looked the man over in disgust. She sat up the better to study his fattening frame and suddenly felt sickened by him. He had none of the vitality of her husband and made a poor substitute. At best Madlarn gave no more than the mechanics of love and she was finding it hard to make her imagination do the rest. Suddenly she wanted no more to do with him and felt that she must get him done with for keeps.

‘How could I find out?’ she asked. ‘The patrols go out under sealed orders. The only man who knows where they’re going in advance is Captain Fog.’

‘Couldn’t you get around him?’

The disgust and loathing showed plain in her eyes now. ‘I couldn’t and I don’t think I’d try even if I could.’

‘Why not?’ said Madlarn in something nearer a whine than a snarl.

‘You wouldn’t understand, Karl. I’m not even sure I do myself. Go fetch a bottle in, will you. We’ll see what we can work out.’

Madlarn rose, pulled on his shirt and trousers, then headed for the bar. He wanted a drink badly and felt that after a couple of snorts of whisky and some of his charm she would agree to help. Only with Noreen’s aid might he learn what he must know.

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