“Not really. Just curious.”
“I have even purchased a house. It is presently being readied. I thought we could use it as a central base.”
“Let me see if I understand this correctly. You’re planning to ride out, watch a stage being held up, then return to town? Then after a good rest, do we ride out again and watch Indians scalping settlers? What do you need me for?”
“TO be my guide!”
“Anyone can do that. Go find an ex-lawman to do your running back and forth.” He knew he was taking a big gamble. He could only hope that she was as determined a woman as she’d stated and didn’t like things or people slipping out of her hands.
Beth raised her lace handkerchief to her nose and inhaled the scent of jasmine perfume. “I’m well aware that we may have to bivouac for two or three days on some occasions.”
One thing was certain. No matter what Beth was involved in, she definitely needed watching after. “If I took this job, we would leave and not return until everything has been accomplished. Seeing someone murdered or scalped by an Indian is a lot different than being mauled by a big cat.”
“I’m quite brave, and you needn’t try to frighten me. You might also like to know that I’m not easily dissuaded from what I set out to do.”
Cole leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If that is so, how come you kept me handcuffed until this evening?”
“I have an investment in you and I want to make sure you don’t run off, at least not until I feel I no longer need you.”
“And what is to keep me from leaving right now with you as my hostage?”
“Howard, and the men waiting outside.” Beth pulled a small revolver from her pocket and pointed it directly at the outlaw. “I hope you’re not foolish enough to think that because I’m a woman I don’t know how to use it.” She gave him a warm smile. “Mr. Wagner, I will not be a handicap. My horsemanship and marksmanship are every bit as good as some men’s and exceedingly better than others. I have nerves of steel and do not faint in a crisis.”
“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong man, Mrs. Alexander,” Cole bluffed. “That deputy lied to you. No man can provide you with what you’re looking for. You seem to be a sensible woman, so think about this. Of all the thousands of miles of track, who can make a knowledgeable guess as to where outlaws plan to stop a train, for instance? Not only where, but when. You’d do better to just rob the damn thing yourself.” Cole stood. “Also, Indians do not scalp people for ladies’ entertainment. Shoot me if you like, but I’m leaving. We both know I’m not the man you’re looking for.” He headed toward the door, gambling she would stop him.
“A hundred dollars for every time you provide what I want!”
His ploy had worked!
“Two hundred. It’s not as if I have to actually rob a train. We could pretend.”
Cole reached the door but didn’t turn the knob. He was listening to her offer, and at the same time wondering what she would come up with next.
“Five hundred,” Beth offered.
“A thousand.” He turned and faced her.
“Very well, a thousand. Do we have a deal?”
“Only if we keep going. I can show you everything on the way. I have no desire to keep retracing my tracks.”
“Done.” Beth’s smile showed her satisfaction.
“When will everything be ready to go?” Cole asked.
“Other than some last-minute supplies, we can leave any time you say.”
“Fine, but I’ll want to check everything personally. If all is in order, we’ll leave at four in the morning, two days from today.” He couldn’t picture her willing to get up so early, but he didn’t receive the reaction he’d expected. “In the meantime, I need money to get what I’ll need, like a horse and gear.” He rubbed his wrists. “Have you decided what you want to see first?”
“I think I would like to rob a train.”
Cole chuckled. The woman did have guts. “Then a train you shall rob. Let’s just hope you don’t get caught by some marshal.”
“Have you ever been to Dodge City?”
“Yes.”
“I have saved newspaper articles about it being...” She picked up the cuttings she had gathered. ‘“A perfect paradise for gamblers, cutthroats and girls.’” She flipped to the next one. “‘Fast men and fast women.’” Another, “‘The wickedest little city in America.”’ The next clipping. “‘Seventeen saloons furnish inspiration, and many people become inspired — not to say drunk. Every facility is afforded for the exercise of conviviality, and no restriction is placed on licentiousness.’” She laid the papers on the seat beside her. ”Would you say the critiques are correct in their depiction?”
“I’d say so,” Cole replied.
“Good. I would like to know the route you would take to get there.”
“Probably drop down to Wichita and over. Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know if there is.”
“Good night, Howard.” He nodded at Mrs. Alexander. “Good night.” He left, certain that this beauty had to be quite insane. Or else there was more behind her starched demeanor than he realized, such as a wild taste for adventure. He headed down the hall to where he’d bathed earlier, the Jones brothers trailing right behind him.
Later that night Cole’s door was unlocked from outside, and a man dressed in black stepped in.
“Well?” he asked.
“Send a wire that so far everything has worked out as planned,” Cole replied. “We’ll be leaving in two days.”
The man handed Cole a large envelope and left, locking the door behind him.
Cole made himself comfortable on the bed and read the familiar handwriting.
I know you’ve expressed a desire to quit my little organization, but I really need you on this one, Cole. The assignment certainly won’t bore you.
Grain destined for our forts is being augmented by chaff and something else. We’re lucky if we get half the grain originally purchased, and soldiers and their families have already been poisoned. The man who handles most of the grain is named Samuel King. He and some congressmen are in cahoots in this swindle, but the mastermind is Quin Turner. We have no description other than he is English and a tactical genius. His gang have wreaked havoc for over five years, killing and robbing, and of course stealing grain from the farmers. No one has been able to locate his headquarters. If we can get our hands on him, we’ll not only destroy a band of thieves, we will also have proof of the men in Washington involved in the swindle.
I arranged for one of Turner’s gang to escape from the Kansas State Prison so he can lead you to the others. His name is Tex Martin. He was followed to Independence, where he signed on with Mrs. Alexander. Now the bad part. Our spy was killed and the only description I have of Tex is that he has brown hair and no distinguishing features. As usual, you’re on your own to figure everything out and catch the scoundrel Quin Turner.
Also, knowing your reputation with women, I am ordering you to keep your britches up and your hands off Bethany Alexander. As bad luck would have it, the widow’s uncle is a senator. Not one under suspicion. The woman is a bit of an eccentric. The one good note is that the senator is seldom aware of her escapades and won’t interfere.
You and I both know you’re the best I have, and your disguise as an outlaw should work in your favor.
President