Comanchero trail, p.13
Comanchero Trail, page 13
‘What the hell happened?’ Sherman shouted. He had not seen Carmelita’s plunge from the rock.
Kittredge jumped to his feet. ‘Keep me covered,’ he shouted, just in case the Comanchero who had been affected by the explosion was still active. In an instant he had vaulted over the rocks to where the body of Gonsalez lay bleeding in the sand. He could not see what had become of Carmelita but the next moment he detected her legs protruding from a rock. He ran to her side and found her lying stunned and bruised but otherwise unhurt.
‘That was stupid!’ he began. ‘You could have got us all killed.’
She looked up at him. ‘I kill Gonsalez,’ she said. ‘El Serpiente bad man. Now he no more.’
Kittredge helped her to her feet just as the figure of Sherman appeared.
‘Gonsalez is dead,’ he confirmed. ‘And so is the other one.’
To the surprise of both men, Carmelita turned to Sherman and put her head on his chest. Sherman looked in some consternation at Kittredge.
‘I’m gonna have a word with Grattan,’ Kittredge said.
Late that night Kittredge and Sherman were sitting by the campfire. Carmelita had turned in for the night. Out in the surrounding darkness they could see the light of Grattan’s cheroot which he had found somewhere as he checked on the horses and mules.
‘Well,’ Sherman said. ‘Seems like we dealt with those Comancheros.’
‘I can’t help feelin’ some pity for Crudace,’ Kittredge said. ‘No matter how bad he was, he came to an awful end.’
‘Sure did,’ Sherman replied. ‘You’re certain Gonsalez was responsible?’
‘Who else could it have been?’ Kittredge replied.
They lapsed into silence, neither liking to dwell on what they had found late that afternoon. They had buried Crudace where he lay.
After a time they heard shuffling footsteps and Grattan rejoined them.
‘Well, old fella,’ Kittredge said. ‘What next for you?’
Grattan blew a cloud of smoke through his nostrils.
‘Don’t rightly know,’ he replied. ‘Carry on tradin’, I guess.’
‘You ain’t got no wagon and no stock any more.’
‘Yeah, you got a point there.’
Sherman laughed. ‘While you’re thinkin’ it over,’ he said, ‘I figure Waggoner could work out somethin’ for you to do about the Rafter W. Especially with your engineerin’ skills an’ all.’
Kittredge glanced at the sleeping form of Carmelita.
‘What do we do with her?’ he asked.
Sherman gave them both a sheepish look.
‘Oh, I see,’ said Kittredge. ‘Man, I wish you the best of luck. Remember how she dealt with Gonsalez.’
‘Not to mention yourself, Sherman,’ Grattan intervened.
‘She’s kinda wild,’ Sherman said. ‘I’ll give you that. Reckon I’ll take my chances.’
‘Once we get back to the Rafter W we’ll call on the marshal and get him to come down here with a few of the boys from the ranch. That way we can straighten out matters with the Spanish Bit.’
‘Yeah, and drive those cattle that rightly belong to us back to the home range again.’
‘It’ll be interestin’ to go back to that mesa,’ Kittredge said.
They poured what was left of the coffee brewing on the flames into their cups.
‘We’ve talked about me and Grattan,’ Sherman said. ‘What you figurin’ to do, Kittredge?’
Kittredge smacked his lips and looked into the fire. ‘Reckon I could still link up with that trail drive to Abilene,’ he said.
‘Yeah, reckon you could. On the other hand, you could stay with the Rafter W.’
Kittredge seemed to consider it for a few moments. ‘There’s work to be done,’ he replied.
Sherman grinned. ‘Sure is. A lot of work.’
‘Maybe startin’ with a certain young lady name of Miss Trashy?’ Grattan intervened. Kittredge looked at the oldster.
‘Don’t figure you’ll be needin’ any of those grenades,’ Grattan said. ‘Nor the big gun neither, for that matter. Nope sirree. I reckon you’re gonna have plenty explosive material without any help from me.’
Jack Dakota, Comanchero Trail
