Ralph Compton Whiskey River Read Online Free

where the wagons are loaded on the steamboats in St. Louis, or where the teamstering begins at Forth Smith?”
    â€œIf you value your lives,” Ferguson said, “you’ll find the Estrello stronghold in Indian Territory and hire on as teamsters if you can. Estrello will have you shot dead if you seem to know too much. I presume the two of you are qualified teamsters.”
    â€œDon’t insult us, Captain,” said Bill Harder. “We’re Texan to the bone. We can saddle and ride anything with hooves and hair and hostle anything up to a six-horse or mule hitch, includin’ a stagecoach.”
    â€œNo insult intended,” Ferguson said. “I just wanted to be sure I’m not sending you to your deaths. Are you prepared to break out tonight?”
    â€œThe sooner the better,” said Mark. “How will we be armed?”
    â€œColts, seventeen-shot Winchesters, and a hundred and forty-four rounds for each of them,” Captain Ferguson said.
    â€œNo Bowies, then,” said Bill.
    â€œNo,” Captain Ferguson said. “Remember, you’re breaking out. You can’t appear too well armed, or Estrello will get wise to you. Obviously, you’ll be taking military mounts, and there’ll be nothing in the saddlebags but military issue and some jerked beef. You’ll have to make contact with Estrello and gain his confidence.”
    â€œCaptain,” said Bill, “you’re a gambling man. You’ve just given us a chance to ride out of here for parts unknown, not knowing if our word is worth a damn or if our intentions are any better. How do you know we won’t just ride out and keep going?”
    â€œLet’s just say I’ve become a good judge of men,” Captain Ferguson said. “All my military commands have been in Texas, and I’ve never yet had a Texan betray my trust. Even if it cost him dearly. I’ve never asked or expected more than a handshake.”
    Without a word, Bill Harder and Mark Rogers got to their feet, and each man extended his right hand across Captain Ferguson’s desk. Ferguson shook their hands, a slight smile on his rugged face.
    â€œOne thing more,” said Captain Ferguson. “When you ride out, each of you will have a wanted dodger in your saddlebag. There’ll be an artist-drawn likeness of you, with a price on your heads of ten thousand dollars each. The charge will be murder. If things go sour, it could well be the death of you, but there’s no help for it. You’ll need it to sell Estrello that you’re on the dodge.”
    â€œOne more question,” said Mark. “How are we to convince any of Estrello’s outfit that the offer of amnesty is for real if they run for it?”
    â€œWith these,” Ferguson said, presenting each of them with a paper-thin oilskin packet. “In this is a copy of my agreement with you men, along with amnesty to as many of the Estrello men as you can convince. Hide these beneath the insoles of your boots, and don’t remove them until you absolutely must. If Estrello even suspects, you’re both dead.”
    â€œBueno, ” said Mark. “We’re ready when you are.”
    â€œAfter midnight, during the sentry change,” Captain Ferguson said. “Your horses will be hidden in the darkness just south of the front gate, rifles in the saddleboots, with your Colts and ammunition in the saddlebags. We must make this look like an authentic break, so I’ll have to sound the alarm. You’ll have five minutes start. Head for Indian Territory. You’ll get there well before daylight, and you won’t be tracked after you’ve crossed the Red. Good luck, and vaya con Dios.”
    â€œThank you, sir,” said Mark and Bill in a single voice.
    They were fed especially well in the guardhouse, then took advantage of the remaining few hours to sleep. Shortly after midnight the door to their cell clicked open.