Part 27 (1/2)
”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.”