“I am sure there is a good doctor in Victoria, and I would be glad to pay for his attentions to those of you who are sick.” Mac was very cool. He dropped the Remington into its holster. “Why go away from this nice town when you have illness?”
“Let’s get out of here!” Frank said irritably. “This isn’t gettin’ us nowhere!”
The other two men stepped down off the board-walk and came toward the man in black, but only he observed Happy Jack Traven and Dal stepping off the porch behind them.
“We must go, but come whenever you are ready, and by all means, bring your doctor.”
He bowed, turned, and walked toward his horse, the others following.
Mac Traven hesitated. Could he get a doctor and the law to go with him? And could they do it in time? He had no doubt the caravan would be moving within minutes of the arrival of these men in the camp on the Guadalupe.
A tall gray-haired man came from the board-walk. “What was that all about?” he asked.
Briefly, Mac Traven explained, then added, “They are heavily armed, good fighting men, and there are at least thirty of them. Nor will they stand for a search or for any doctor. In all fairness, I have to warn you of that. A search will show kidnapped women, stolen horses and cattle, and a thoroughly vicious bunch of men.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Follow them, get those women away from them, and hopefully the cattle as well. These are dangerous men and must be stopped.”
“They have done no harm here, and our sheriff is in San Antonio. You might try for volunteers, but I doubt if you’d get many. It is not their fight, and this is a busy time for all here.”
As the man walked away Happy Jack swore. “You should have killed that Frank,” he said irritably. “We had ’em boxed.”
“And endanger innocent people? When lead starts flying it is usually bystanders who get hurt. No, I can wait. When a man uses a gun he should be aware of the consequences.”
“What do we do now?”
“We follow them, we get the girls back. We stampede their cattle, we delay them, we watch our chance to get that wagon-load of women. Let’s go!”
Six
Kate Connery was working close to their wagon when she saw the riders return from Victoria. They went at once to the canvas awning under which Colonel Ashford waited.
She heard a mutter of voices and then one slightly louder, “Said he was Major Mac Traven. Sounded like he figured you’d know the name. There was at least one other man with him, maybe two. The one I was sure of was tall an’ dark, like Traven himself. Could be a brother.”
There was a mutter of voices then, and “. . . tellin’ ever’body. That storekeeper, he said they could mount three hundred riflemen, words to that effect. I figure he lied.”
“I believe he did not,” Ashford said sharply. “If you know the history of Victoria you would know it has been attacked by Indians on several occasions, and they are prepared to resist. I think, gentlemen, we had better pull out. This is no time to have trouble.”
Kate went around behind the wagon, out of sight. Her heart was pounding. Mac Traven here! And that other one sounded like Dal, but Dal was dead … or was he?
She went to the back of the wagon and looked at her sister Dulcie and Gretchen Traven lying with the others. “Dulcie?” she whispered.
One of the girls sat up, and Kate whispered, “We’ll be leaving soon. Don’t make any trouble, and be very quiet. We’ve got to watch our chances.”
“What chances?” Dulcie said. “They haven’t given us any kind of a chance!”
“Dulcie? Mac is out there. He’s got a man with him, maybe more. We’ve got to be very quiet, very obedient, and watch our chances. Mac will do something. I know he will.” She paused. “I think Dal is with him.”
“You know that isn’t true!” Gretchen said. “Dal was killed!”
“We heard that, but we don’t know. I overheard them talking, and they said one of the other men was tall and dark and looked like Mac.”
“What shall we do?”
“Be alert. That’s all we can do. Mac will do something. I know he will!”
A stocky man with black hair and an unshaven face came by. “Get into the wagon,” he said roughly. “We’re pullin’ out.”
“Where are we going now?” Kate asked. He paused. He had been one of the kindest of them, although his tone was always rough. “You’ll get some sea air, maybe. You ever seen the sea?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Neither have I, but they tell me we’re gittin’ close. Git in that wagon now and don’t you make no trouble. There’s a passel of very touchy men out yonder.”
There was a rattle of trace chains and the sound of horses moving. Listening, they heard all the sounds of a hurried breaking of camp, then a low-voiced “Ho!”
The wagon began to move, rocking and rolling over numerous obstructions. “Over the bank!” she heard someone direct, and the wagon tilted sharply back. A whip cracked, and the wagon lurched forward and up as they clung to the sides to keep from falling in a heap at the back of the wagon. Then it lurched over the crest, and they were rolling along.
“We’re going to the Gulf,” she whispered to Cordelia Atherton, the woman next to her. “I don’t know why.”
Mrs. Atherton was silent for a moment, and then she said, “That means a boat or something. There’s no good trail along the Gulf that doesn’t run into town. Corpus is down there.”
“A boat?”
Mrs. Atherton’s voice was dry. “Kate, you’d better understand this. If your friend Mac doesn’t come up with something we’re headed for slavery.”
“Slavery?” Kate’s voice shrilled a little. “What do you mean? That’s over, and besides, we’re white.”
“There were white slaves long before any blacks were enslaved, except by their own people. We had a preacher told us about it. Even the word slave came from ‘Slav’ because some of the early Roman slaves were from Slavic countries. There’s places where white women bring a good price. And why else would they go to the Gulf?”
There were few sounds except for the rolling rumble of the wagons, the occasional crack of a whip, and periodically a muffled curse.
Once when the wagon stopped to give the horses a chance to catch their breath, a horseman rode up alongside the driver.
“River up ahead. No idea how deep, but might be swimmin’ water this time of year.”
“Where we headed for?”
The answer was lower. “Little place. Copano.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Damn few have! That’s why we’re goin’ there. Ain’t but a handful of folks there, and nobody’s liable to make trouble. Anyway, we’ll not be in town, jus’ close by.”
He rode off, and after a minute the wagon started on. Mrs. Atherton spoke again. “I’m worried about my little girl. Had to leave her.”
“Leave her?”
“You think I’d bring her into this? Her pappy should be home from the war by now. If not, there’s neighbors if she’ll get out an’ walk. I’d no notion of bringin’ her into this. Although I wasn’t looking for slavery. I’d expected rape and maybe killing, but not this.”
“Mac’s out there. He’ll do something.”
“What can one man do?”
“Mac can do a lot. He was a Texas Ranger four years. Rode with Rip Ford, Captain Jack Hays, and them. He’s the best man with a gun I ever did see, unless it was Dal.”
A man’s voice broke in. “Dal?”
Kate shot a glance over to where Jesse Traven lay in the wagon. “Ssh!”
The driver turned his head. “He comin’ to? Was that him I heard?”
“He’s delirious,” Kate said, “talkin” in his sleep. He thinks he’s back up in north Texas.”
Leaning over close to Jesse’s ear she whispered, “Mac’s out there somewhere. Dal maybe with him. They said there were at least two, and the description sounded like Dal.” Jesse had been wounded in the raid but tied up and brought along with the women. He was only just now showing signs of returning to full consciousness. For a long time they rocked and rolled across the country, though often it was flat for some distance. Then they went over low hills, if such they could be called.
Kate sat quiet, listening. If only she had a knife! Something to cut Jesse loose! She had to keep her eyes open. She might find something, some broken glass, anything!
She smelled water and foliage. The rider stopped by. “Ain’t so deep. I’ll ride in ahead of you. She ain’t more than belly deep for the horses.”