Ralph Compton Whiskey River (12 page)

“That's not a bad idea, taking control of the fourth steamboat,” Lee Sullivan said. “Is it part of our plan?”

“I don't think we actually
have
a plan,” said Stackler. “Mark, you and Bill brought us together. What do you think?”

“I think taking over a steamboat will be the quickest way to get all of us killed,” Bill said, “unless I change my mind. Have another look at the upper deck of the first steamboat, where they've removed the canvas covering.”

“By the Eternal,” Nick Ursino said, “it's a Gatling gun. That thing could wipe out an entire tribe of Indians in just a few seconds.”

“Is this the kind of thing Estrello's done before?” Mark asked.

“Not in all the time I've been with him,” said Stackler. “He's always taken maybe three or four men from each steamboat. The rest of us just waited here for them to return.”

“He always took varmints like Wilder and Irvin,” Clemans added. “He's partial to those who will kill without question.”

“We still don't have a plan,” said Ursino.

“We'll have to plan as we go,” Mark said. “We don't know what's likely to happen before we reach St. Louis, load the whiskey, and return here. As for taking over a steamboat, let's give it some thought. The Aztec has the Gatling gun on the forward deck, and it'll take some time to turn that boat around. But if there's no other way, we can cut down Suggs and Irvin, ground the steamboat, and ride for our lives.”

“I don't like the sound of that,” said Bill. “Estrello will still have enough men so they can track us down, riding in relays. I believe Estrello would leave the steamboats loaded with whiskey and come after us.”

Keithley sighed. “I'm inclined to agree with Bill. We'd better give serious thought to this situation. It's unlikely that we'll have any advantage during the loading in St. Louis. There should be a four-man crew aboard each steamboat. Generally, there's a captain and three fireman, but they're not short-horns. Every man of them is armed with a Winchester and knows how to use it.”

“Rogers and Harder, drive your wagons aboard the
Star
,” Estrello shouted. “Take them where you are told, unhitch the teams, and chock the wagon wheels.”

The steamboat crew had brought heavy oak ramps for the loading and unloading of the wagons. It required four men, including the steamboat's captain, to get the ramp in place. When it was ready, Mark guided his team up the ramp, taking the wagon to a position one of the crew had pointed out. There he unharnessed the mules, and again following one of the crew, led the animals to a lower deck. By the time he returned to chock the wheels of the wagon, Bill's wagon was aboard, and he was unharnessing the teams.

“Be damn sure you chock them wheels right,” said one of the crewmen.

“I ain't never chocked no wheels before,” Mark said with all the sarcasm he was able to muster, “but I'll do my best.”

Irvin had arrived just in time to hear the exchange.

“Rogers,” said Irvin, “I'm in charge, and there'll be no smart-mouthing. Do as you are told, or you'll answer to me.”

“If I had a gun, I could kill him myself,” Betsy said softly.

“Not so loud,” said Bill. “Like it or not, we're stuck with him and Suggs until we decide what we have to do.”

“I'm wondering if these steamboats weren't built for smuggling,” Mark said. “Except for the ramp to each deck, the rest of the rim has maybe a three-foot-high wall that looks like steel or iron. A few men with that kind of cover and plenty of ammunition could hold off a small army.”

“It's something to keep in mind,” said Stackler. “Some of us don't have that much ammunition. Estrello's kept us out of towns, and we've been limited to the shells he's been allowing us.”

“Then we'll just have to make good use of what we have,” Mark said.

 

There was some delay when some of the horses and mules to be sold shied at the boat ramp. Instead of going aboard boat three, the animals whirled and ran back the way they had come. Shadley and Hiram were run down in the unexpected stampede. They lay there in the mud, cursing, while others in the outfit thought it hilariously funny.

“Damn it,” Estrello bawled, “you outriders go after those animals. And be sure you get them all.”

But it was no easy task, for the horses belonging to the outriders had been unsaddled and were on a lower deck. Considerable time had passed before the pursuers were able to leave the steamboat, and by then, the escaped horses and mules had disappeared into the brush and undergrowth along the north bank of the Arkansas.

Keithley laughed softly. “That's the first time that's ever happened.”

“Wolf Estrello's greed is the cause of that,” said Sullivan. “He's taking twice as many mules and horses as he's ever taken before.”

“Every one of them's wearin' a brand of some kind,” Bill said. “Horse stealing can get a man hung quicker than anything else. How does he get around that?”

“Another of his crooked contacts in St. Louis,” said Ursino. “By the time Estrello gets this stolen stock off the boat, he'll have what passes for a bill of sale on every one of the critters.”

Slowly, the disgruntled outriders rounded up the stampeded horses and mules, driving them onto the steamboat two or three at a time. They were still missing a pair of mules when Estrello gave it up.

“Let the others go,” he shouted.

The outriders were only too glad to do exactly that. When they again got aboard the steamboat, they had been bloodied by briars and thorns, and their tempers were on a short rein. They led their horses to a lower deck, again unsaddling them. A stranger with dark hair to his collar and a three-day beard stood on deck, watching the last of the runaway horses and mules being led aboard. When he spoke, it was loud enough for all to hear.

“I am Captain Jenks, and I am in full command of this vessel. My word is final, and I suggest all of you keep that in mind. None of you is allowed in my quarters, in the pilothouse, or the boiler room.”

But there was immediate conflict. Their hands near the butts of their revolvers, Irvin and Suggs faced the arrogant captain. “I'm Irvin, and this is Suggs. We are in charge of everybody on this boat until it has traveled to St. Louis and returns here. That's by order of
Señor
Estrello.”

“I am the captain,” Jenks said, “and any man disobeying my rules will be shot. That specifically includes both of you.”

Jenks had a Colt belted around his middle and looked perfectly capable of using it. His hard eyes bored into Irvin and Suggs, and the surly pair allowed common sense to overcome their pride. They backed off, and Captain Jenks eyed the rest of the men as though daring somebody to take up the argument where Irvin and Suggs had left off. None of the other men had anything to say, but there was a half smile on Stackler's rugged face, and a definite twinkle in the eyes of his companions.

“Damn it,” Suggs complained to nobody in particular, “we'll be settin' here all night while they load the other three boats.”

“Mister,” said Captain Jenks, who had overheard, “feel free to take your horse and ride on ahead if that suits you. Otherwise, shut the hell up and stay out of the way.”

When the fourth steamboat was loaded and the loading ramps raised, the men assigned to the third boat, the
Midnight
, wrestled the ramps into place. The two wagons were then taken aboard, followed by the outriders' horses. Last came some horses and mules Estrello would sell or trade in St. Louis. The loading of the first and second boats went smoothly, and not quite an hour before sundown, the four steamboats were ready to depart. Black smoke poured from their twin stacks, as firemen added wood and stoked the fires beneath the boilers.

“I'm hungry,” Amanda said. “What about food?”

“Mostly cold biscuit and jerked beef,” said Lee Sullivan. “That's all this outfit provides, unless Estrello pays extra, which he won't. There is a barrel of fresh water, though.”

The stern-wheelers rolled on, leaving a backwash of muddy water behind them. Before dark, Captain Jenks spoke to Long and Sullivan.

“You men come with me. There's food to be brought to the upper deck.”

Sullivan's prediction of jerked beef and cold biscuits proved correct, but there was enough of both to satisfy their hunger.

“This is goin' to be one hell of a long ride,” said Bill, “without decent grub.”

Mark laughed. “I recall you sayin' once that a Texan could survive for a year on good old jerked beef.”

“He can,” Bill grumbled, “but that don't mean he has to like it.”

Darkness fell, and there was only faint starlight to illuminate the muddy Arkansas. Bill, Betsy, Mark, and Amanda stood beside the rail, their eyes on the big paddle wheel.

“Something like this could be fun,” said Betsy, “if things were different.”

“Things
will
be different when we ride back to Texas,” Mark said. “Maybe we'll spend a couple of weeks in Austin, eating and sleeping.”

“I admire your optimism,” said Bill.

“So do I,” Amanda said. “As much as I want to believe we'll live through this, there's doubt that's tearing me apart. It seems like nothing ever works out for Betsy and me. We lost Ma to consumption, and old Jake took us in, seen we were fed, and had something to wear. Of course, we were with these outlaws, but Jake protected us. After Jake was killed, it would have been the end of us, if the two of you hadn't been there. Now it looks like we may all meet the same grisly end together.”

Taking off his hat, Mark touched Amanda's cheek with his own. The girl was weeping silent tears for what might have been. He said nothing, for there was nothing he could say that would change their precarious circumstances. Bill and Betsy were silent, and it seemed Bill might be comforting the girl as best he could. After a prolonged silence, it was Betsy who spoke.

“I have to go to the bushes. What am I going to do?”

“There has to be some private place on this steamboat,” Bill said. “Captain Jenks can't fault us for asking about that. Come on.”

They found Captain Jenks on the main deck, eating jerked beef and a biscuit. He was civil enough when Mark asked him the all-important question.

“The facilities—the head—is on the deck just below this one,” said Jenks. “You will be permitted down there.”

“I'm afraid to go alone,” Betsy said. “Bill, will you come with me?”

“Come on,” said Bill. “We're not even sure what we're looking for. I'll go and see that nobody bothers you.”

“Perhaps I'd better go along, too,” Amanda said. “It's that, or go later.”

“Let's go, then,” said Mark. “It bothers me, with all these men on board.”

“I'm not afraid of any of them, except Suggs and Irvin,” Betsy said. “Of course, we don't know the firemen.”

“I don't look for any trouble from the firemen,” Mark said. “Bill and me will stay near enough to hear you if anything goes wrong.”

There was only an iron-runged ladder leading down to the next deck, and at the foot of the ladder was a lighted lantern. Bill took it, and they began looking for what Jenks had called “the head.” They found it at the far end of the deck, and it was in no way enclosed. A kind of bench had been constructed out of rough lumber, with a convenient hole at each end. Beneath them they could hear the rushing of the river.

Bill laughed. “Why this ain't nothin' but an old cow-country outhouse.”

“Not quite,” said Mark. “There's no walls, no door, and no privacy.”

“Well, hell,” Bill said, “a good lightning bug could turn out more light than this old lantern. We'll just blow it out until you're finished.”

“No,” said Betsy, “leave it lighted. It's so awful dark down here.”

“Something touched the back of my neck,” Amanda cried. “It was cold and wet.”

Mark laughed. “You've been nuzzled by one of the mules. Some of the extra mules and horses are down here.”

“Laugh, damn it,” said Amanda. “It scared me half to death.”

“The two of you had better get over there and use that contraption,” Bill said, “before the rest of the horses and mules get interested and come to see what you're doing.”

“At least they could have built some walls around the thing,” Betsy complained.

“It's dark now,” said Amanda. “In daylight, we'll be sitting right there for anybody to see us.”

“I don't believe there's a man on this steamboat that won't respect your privacy,” said Mark, “unless it's Irvin and Suggs. Bill and me can handle them.”

“One or both of you could be killed,” Betsy said. “Our privacy's not worth that.”

When they were ready to return to the upper deck, they hung the lantern back where they had found it and climbed the iron-runged ladder. Amanda and Betsy went first, Bill and Mark following. There in the dim starlight stood Irvin, a scowl on his ugly face.

“The captain said there wasn't gonna be no roamin' around on this steamboat,” Irvin said. “Where the hell you been?”

“The ladies had to visit the facilities on the lower deck, said Bill, trying to contain his temper. ”We asked the captain, and he gave his permission.”

 

Somehow they made it through that first long night. Shortly after daylight, the four boats stopped at a crude landing, where the firemen loaded additional wood to continue the journey. On the
Star
the comrades watched the activity, pondering their situation.