Chapter 7 The House
Bart Maverick and the posse of soldiers jerked their reins up at the sound of the explosion, half-muted in the rain that fell and fell on the tired country. The men rode on towards the sound, then when they came to the stream, dashed off their horses and tied them up. They followed it down to the cow pond where it had been dynamited. There was a whirlpool effect to the water that wasn't natural.
"Something's down there, the way the stream runs in so fast," Bart said, referencing the drain. "It could be running into a cave." He led the men down the small hillside on a search for the cave opening, the men fanning out and beating the brush for it.
A trooper named Pvt. Wendell found the actual cave. Squatting down at the brush-covered opening, he called the others over to him. Bart and Crandall ran up and watched as Wendell and two others squeezed past the camouflaging brush at the mouth of the cave and slipped in, then the pair got down on all fours and followed.
A short distance away from the opening, the path became man-sized and led them straight to Travers' iron door, which was standing open, and then into the first of the two rooms, the water from the room puddling at their feet.
"Where does this go?" Bart asked Lt. Crandall.
Crandall merely shook his head, throwing water off his blue officer's cap. "I haven't the foggiest, Bart," he said, "but let's go in."
After days of riding in the rain with no luck, Bart was ready to try anything to find Bret. He slipped inside and Lt. Crandall, followed by two of his men, walked in after him. The third man went back to the entrance to stand guard outside.
Crandall lit a match. In its feeble light, Bart pushed through the water on the floor until he stumbled over something in his path. Stopping Crandall at the same time with his hand, he reached down and pulled up Bret's saddlebags. Both Bart and the army lieutenant silently agreed that he had been there.
"Bret!" Bart called into the gloomy wet dark. "Bret!"
Crandall's match went out, leaving the men in the dark except for what light came from the open door and the crack in the ceiling. Pvt. Wendell fished in his pocket and lit another wobbly match on a rock, holding it up for the lieutenant and Bart as they made their way over to the boulder at one end of the room.
Bart climbed up on his brother's rock cairn to peer over it, seeing a bit of daylight beyond. The water from the stream was pouring in. Had Bret gone out that away?
His brother must have slipped over this rock—there was just enough room—and gone into the next room where he could escape by a breach in the rock wall. It was only a guess. He could just as likely have used the open door and crawled through the brush outside.
Since he wasn't sure which way Bret had gone, along with the troopers, he said, "C'mon, let's get out o' here!"
He came down off the rocks and Crandall followed. The two privates were a step behind them. Once back outside in the fresher, but highly rain-soaked air, Bart raced back up the bluff and towards the location where the stream had been dynamited. The gushing water kept eroding the lip of the cave into which it flowed.
Staying well back of it, he gazed off into the distance. He didn't see anybody. Just rocks and trees and the winding stream.
"They could be in hiding, since Travers' men might still be about," said Lt. Crandall, wise in his years for all his crustiness.
"That could be," Bart said, taking the lead again. "C'mon!"
He ran down the stream, pounding along it with the troopers in tow until he reached their horses. They could follow Fossil Creek as it meandered through the cottonwoods and sycamores, or they could ride out onto the scrubby plain just beyond, looking for the missing men.
Rather than make that choice and possibly pick the wrong one, Lt. Crandall issued an order to two of his men to ride out into the open, while he and Bart and one other man boarded their horses and rode through the brush along the creek, calling out for Anders, Holmes and Bret. They rode zigzag through the fast creek, swollen with rain, checking from side to side as they went.
The escaped men were indeed in hiding, watching the riders as they came up the creek, sloshing water up to their horses' withers. Upon seeing their uniforms, however, and one face in particular on a dark chestnut, Maverick slipped his cover, dragging Cpl. Anders out with him, and waylaid the arriving patrol.
"Man, Bart, am I sure glad to see you! How'd you find this place?"
"We've been searching for days, Bret," Bart said, grasping his hand, "for you and the two soldiers. By the way, where's the other man—weren't there supposed to be two troopers?"
Cpl. Anders spoke up, addressing himself to Crandall with a short, exhausted salute. "Travers kept us on short rations, sir, and Pvt. Holmes died. Bret and me, we did everythin' we could to keep 'im alive, but he passed the point of no return, a few days ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Corporal. I'm sure Col. Holmes will miss him, too, but I know you did all that you could." Crandall turned in the saddle, saying to Bart, "Well, Mr. Maverick, go, collect your brother there, and you, Pvt. Wendell, let Cpl. Anders ride with you."
"Where're we going, Lieutenant?" asked Bart, hoisting his brother up in the saddle behind him.
"We're goin' to pay Dale Travers a call. I want 'im to know he can't shove the U.S. Army around like he's been doin'." Crandall prepared to gallop off.
"Is that wise, sir?" asked Bret, his arms resting on his legs as he sat the horse behind Bart. "I know his strength. He has about twenty men, all guilty as he is, though some of them may still be on the drive into Mexico with his stolen beef."
Crandall's saddle creaked as he turned around, facing Bret. "I don't intend to let him get away, Mr. Maverick. I'll go personally and arrest him. You don't have to tag along—you've already been through enough, I'd say."
"Where you go, I'll go," said Bret. "Just be aware that there's a woman heavy with child in that house of his. I don't want to see her hurt."
"She won't be, if she stays out o' the way."
With that, Crandall kicked his horse out of the stream and rode up the bank, directly through underbrush that bloodied the horse's sides. He seemed not to see it.
A bit more warily, the Maverick brothers and Pvt. Wendell rode into the brush and caught up with Crandall on the other side of it. He rode beside the gamblers a bit more carefully now, and between the three of them, they talked about the plan to beard the lion in his own den, or, that is, to arrest Travers in his own house.
Crandall's other two men had not ridden back yet, and Crandall hoped they caught up soon. He didn't want to fire a shot to get their attention, in case Travers' men were still lurking about.
Relaying to Travers about Texas Pete and the 'boys' blowing up the stream and flooding the cave, Hank Rollins caught a glimpse of horseflesh out of the corner of his eye through a large picture window in the living room. He didn't let on as to what he saw, even when the bluebellies stopped in some trees at the edge of the immense, green-carpeted yard. He saw only three men. Bret and Cpl. Anders, as a kind of backup, were hiding in the trees, so as not to alert Travers that anything was up.
Wrapping up what he had to say about Texas Pete, Hank offered to "fetch in more wood," and dispatched himself to the ranch's kitchen, nodding to Carla at the stove. Once there, it was an easy jaunt out of the back door and then to the horse he'd tied up there when he entered earlier.
Travers didn't permit any of the cowboys to enter by the front door. Heck, that was alright. They liked the smells of Carla's frying tortillas anyway. Bypassing the pile of cordwood, Rollins forked his horse and was gone in two shakes of a second.
"Well, Lieutenant, you're almost in time for supper," said Travers, ever the hospitable host. "Your men can eat with my crew again. Right now, some of 'em are mending harness in the tack room."
Tack room, thought Crandall, back part of the barn, next door to the bunkhouse, but not visible from the front of the house. Good, he thought, keep 'em there! He slipped his .44 out of its holster and leveled it on Travers.
"Mr. Travers, you're under arrest for cattle and horse stealin', and for the death of Pvt. Holmes. You'll come peaceable?"
Travers, taken aback by the sudden revelation that Crandall now knew all about his operation, had to guess that Maverick and Cpl. Anders had indeed escaped from the cave when Texas Pete and his 'boys,' according to Hank Rolllins, who he had a sneaking feeling had just lit out, blew it up a few hours ago.
Travers was silent for almost too long, and then he said, "I'm not goin' anywhere with you. It's a standoff, with my men outnumbering yours."
"Where are your men, Travers?" asked Crandall, a snide tone creeping into his voice. Bart looked over at him from his horse and smiled. The old soldier had grit. "I don't see any of 'em hereabout. Where'd you say they were?"
At that moment, Bessie chose to step into the doorway at Travers' side, pushing her husband further out onto the porch. Raising her eyes to his, she asked, "What is it, Dale? What's happenin'?"
"I'm being arrested, Bessie," he whispered to the side. Travers wasn't wearing a gun, not in the house, but he thought he'd try an angle and looked up at the horse riders again. "You won't shoot so close to a woman, will you, Crandall, especially not one with child?"
"What're you gettin' at, Travers?" Crandall was getting edgy, fumbling with his reins, for the longer they sat their horses in front of the house with a gun on Travers, the sooner might his cowboys flood out of the tack room en masse.
Crandall side-eyed Bart and noticed that the gambler had pulled out his gun, too. Pvt. Wendell, not authorized to carry a sidearm as the lieutenant was, drew his carbine from its boot. He laid it casually across his saddle, not wanting it to go off accidentally and hit Mrs. Travers, but he kept his fingers in the trigger guard.
"Bessie," Travers whispered again. "Go round up the boys. Tell 'em to beat it out here, okay?"
"If you're sending Bessie off," said Bret Maverick, now coming out of the trees at the edge of the yard and into view of the house, "to do your dirty work, then just forget it. She can't be persuaded to help you in that way."
"It's true," Bessie said, right at Travers' elbow, still looking up at him, searching his eyes for the man she thought she had married eight years ago. "I still love you, Dale, but I can't go along with this way of living, anymore. Killing, stealing, it's got to stop."
Crandall made a silent gesture with the gun to advance and Travers, after a moment's reflection, surrendered, stepping off the porch with his hands raised. He couldn't take the chance of hurting Bessie and the unborn child she carried. Pvt. Wendell rebooted his carbine, rode up, and found room for Travers on his horse, then backed out of the yard to where Cpl. Anders was waiting.
Lt. Crandall remained a few minutes more as Bart approached the house and dismounted, followed on foot by Bret, each with a nod at Bessie.
"It'll be hard, Bessie," said Bart, his husky, silken voice showing much compassion, "but you'll be okay. I'll make sure the doctor at Fort McDowell knows you're here. Carla will help, too." He tipped his hat towards Bessie and stepped aside as his brother moved up to speak.
Bessie had tears in her eyes when she acknowledged Bart's kind words with a small dip of her head, but when she gazed up at Bret, there was a new, fearless look in her eye.
"With any luck," the elder Maverick brother said, "your husband's herd will be driven to Ellsworth and sold for a profit. In the meantime, I suspect the troopers will come back and arrest any of the men helpin' him. Don't be afraid, though, you've got something far better to look forward to.
Bessie broke down a bit more, her shoulders sagging, but then bucked up, wiping her eyes. "What'll happen to Dale?"
"Courts'll decide," Bret answered, then he softened his tone, "I'm not sure he'll be comin' back. Not with Pvt. Holmes' death."
Bessie hung her head and turned back into the waiting arms of Carla, who'd been listening just inside the door. As the door shut silently behind the two women, the Maverick brothers mounted Bart's horse again, paired up with Crandall, and rode out of the yard with the troopers and Travers.
It would take all of Bessie's convincing to prevent Travers' men, loyal even to a thief and murderer, once they came out of the barn, not to pursue the patrol and wipe it out with their greater numbers and fresher horses. But she knew she could stop them. She had right on her side, and inside.
A/N: What of the longsuffering Ollie? When Bret had rested up at Fort McDowell, he, Bart and a group of 'bluebellies' returned to Travers' ranch and found him still in Travers' barn. Most of the cowboys had cleared out, but Hank Rollins had returned. He was given the task of taking Travers' herd to Ellsworth, Kansas, something he looked forward to.
In due time, Bessie had her baby, with Carla's ready assistance, a little girl. The presents she received from the fort included two from the Mavericks, who had kept track of the date, even while they were off winning pots and tackling other adventures.
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