The Devil Gun Read Online Free

well?’
    ‘I—I’ve got to be taken to a Confederate unit,’ Marsden answered.
    ‘We’re a Confederate unit, boy,’ scoffed Ashley.
    ‘I mean regulars.’
    ‘Now ain’t we good enough to suit you?’ sneered the bushwhacker leader.
    ‘I tell you, man, it’s imperative that I reach a regular Confederate Army unit without delay.’
    ‘Sure you do. You’re one of their smartest officers. All the rebs wear these blue uniforms nowadays.’
    A guffaw of laughter rose from among the men, but the girl turned from where she had been stirring stew in a pot at the fire.
    ‘He might be a Confederate spy, Ashley,’ she said, coming towards her leader.
    For the first time Marsden gave his attention to the girl, for her voice came as a surprise. She did not speak in the coarse, strident tones of the usual cheap harridan one found among the irregular camp-followers. Nor did she have the tone of a rich, well-bred Southern belle. Her voice came somewhere between the two, like the daughters of small businessmen, storekeepers and the like Marsden met in the various Arkansas towns. The girl was bare-headed, her reddish brown hair hanging to just above her shoulders and curling out at the ends, showing signs of care not often seen among camp-followers. While not beautiful, she had an attractive face, one that might have looked merry and friendly in normal times but now had tight lips and cold, hostile brown eyes. The face was tanned by the elements, but showed no signs of being degraded by a life of debauchery. She stood about five foot six and the clothes she wore tended to reveal rather than hide her figure. A tartan man’s shirt, a couple of sizes too large for her, still showed that she possessed a mature figure, while the levis pants she wore hinted at the rich curves and shape1y legs underneath. High-heeled riding boots almost completed the picture. No cheap, flashy jewellery spoiled her healthy, wholesome appearance, but a Tranter revolver was thrust into the left side of her waist band, its butt pointing inwards. Marsden formed an impression that the gun might be much more than a decoration.
    Clearly Ashley respected the girl’s opinion, for he turned towards her.
    ‘Reckon he might, Jill?’
    ‘He’s riding alone,’ answered the girl. ‘Or we’d have heard from Thad by this time if there was more of them about.’
    ‘You could be right, gal,’ purred Ashley and turned to Marsden. ‘Are you a spy, feller?’
    Marsden did not reply immediately, wanting time to think out his words. The man who had taken Marsden’s watch stepped forward and drove his fist savagely into the young officer’s belly, knifing the breath from his lungs and causing him to try to double over.
    ‘You answer up when Ashley asks you something, boy!’ the man warned.
    ‘Keep back and leave him a chance!’ snapped the girl called Jill. ‘He can’t talk if you keep hitting him.’
    ‘Yeah?’ began the man sullenly. ‘Well—’
    ‘You pay Jill mind, Whit!’ barked Ashley. ‘Stand back there and leave me do the questioning.’ Ignoring his man, Ashley looked to where Marsden, still firmly held, tried to rub the pain out of his stomach. ‘How about it, boy. Are you a spy?’
    ‘You—you might say that,’ agreed Marsden hopefully.
    His hope went crashing to the ground.
    ‘Well, if you are,’ Ashley grinned, ‘I’ll bet the Yankee Army’d pay right well to lay hands on you.’
    Marsden could have groaned at his mistake. The War meant only profit to men like Ashley, they were not moved by patriotic feelings. Mentioning that he might be a spy had been a wrong move, as Marsden now realised. It would have taken some time for Ashley’s agent to make contact with the Zouaves and start the negotiations for the ransom and during that time a chance of escape could present itself. Far less time would be needed to contact any Union outfit with the view of selling a Confederate spy. The agent would not even need to locate a specific unit