There was a crease like opening between the rolling hills, not wide enough for a wagon to pass unobstructed, but plenty wide enough for two men or horseback waiting to attack. This was something that they had done in many different situation over the years they rode together.
They did not talk, because there was not need of exchange between them. Both knew what the other would do, and that was sufficient. when the two horsemen approached, they would storm out of hiding, if the men went for their weapons, they would kill them, as simple as that.
Now all they had to do was wait. The troop would do their job.
There was a certain inevitability to it all as the cavalry manuvers flanked the wagons easily enough on both sides and then on signal, both columns shifted into lines and cantered toward their lumbering target. Benjamin could see some excitement, was that consternation, going on among the men on the wagons. Sure enough, one man stood up from his seat on the first wagon and signaling to his point men out front, shouting too but Benjamin could not hear the words.
The point riders took off, abandoning the wagon expedition to it's fate, as fast as the pair could urge their mounts forward. Little did they realize, they were riding right toward his detached scouts. He would have to trust MacIntosh and his Apache would be able to take those men for he simply continued to close.
By the time the two lines closed to within speaking range, the wagons had actually halted. Each wagon had two men on them though by now they had clambered off to wait the army's arrival. While two of the men held rifles they were not foolish enough to try and aim them. It was as Benjamin figured, they were not suicidal enough to shoot it out with forty cavalrymen.
"Halt!" Benjamin shouted out the most basic of orders and the troopers pulled up. One of the wagon men stepped forward with a wave and a smile. An older rough looking sort and the grin looked forced.
"Hello there! Might we be of help to you gentlemen?" he greeted the soldiers.
Benjamin had no real desire to be nice but he would at least go thru the act of being polite.
"That you might. I am going to be wanting to have a look what's in those wagons, Mister....?" he called back.
"Mercier, name's Mercier, captain," came the reply, least the fellow recognized ranks.
"Very well then Mr. Mercier, we want to see what you are carrying there," Benjamin turned and rapped out an order to his detachment, "Sergeant, dismount with eight men and go check those wagons out. I will keep Mr. Mercier and his associates company."
Then he looked back at the civilians, "Oh and you two with the rifles, lay'em down now. And slowly unless you want to provoke us. It would not end well."
Mercier continued that plastered fake smile of his, "Boys do as the soldier boy sez. We want no trouble."
Benjamin decided to dismount then and as he did a trooper did the same and took the horse's reins from the captain. If Benjamin's hunch was right about these wagons and these men, Mercier was not going to be smiling for long. The man was in deep trouble.
Just as they had expected, his point riders wee making a run for it. But MacIntosh and Ke Ni Tay sat their horse just out of sight of the two rides headed for them as fast as their horses would run.
At the right moment both scouts bolted forward, their horses headed directly at to two point riders, Ke Na Tay taking the outside while MacIntosh use d an old tactic of ramming the other horse, actually move of a side swipe with jam of his boot to the leg of the rider, or the horses flank.
With a blood curdling war whoop, Ke Na Tay sprang from his mount and tore the man from his saddle, the two toppling to the ground and rolling a short distance before the Apache went to hit him, but the man was out cold. Had this been another time in another place, he would have slit the mans throat.
"Gonna hurt yourself doin' that one day." MacIntosh stated. "You, drop your gun nice an easy like." MacIntosh had the other one covered with his pistol.
"What the Sam Hell you think your doin' Mister? And what 's that Apache doin' up here?" The man asked.
"Why we didn't want you two to miss whats goin' on back at yer wagons when the Captain see's what yer haulin. And him? Whatever he wants." As Macintosh answered the man's questions the Indian jerked his prey to his feet.
"You mount up," He said as he took the man's pistol. "You try anything, you not see sunset." With that, he remounted his horse. Moments later the foursome was headed back to where the wagons were.
Just as they had expected, his point riders wee making a run for it. But MacIntosh and Ke Ni Tay sat their horse just out of sight of the two rides headed for them as fast as their horses would run.
At the right moment both scouts bolted forward, their horses headed directly at to two point riders, Ke Na Tay taking the outside while MacIntosh use d an old tactic of ramming the other horse, actually move of a side swipe with jam of his boot to the leg of the rider, or the horses flank.
With a blood curdling war whoop, Ke Na Tay sprang from his mount and tore the man from his saddle, the two toppling to the ground and rolling a short distance before the Apache went to hit him, but the man was out cold. Had this been another time in another place, he would have slit the mans throat.
"Gonna hurt yourself doin' that one day." MacIntosh stated. "You, drop your gun nice an easy like." MacIntosh had the other one covered with his pistol.
"What the Sam Hell you think your doin' Mister? And what 's that Apache doin' up here?" The man asked.
"Why we didn't want you two to miss whats goin' on back at yer wagons when the Captain see's what yer haulin. And him? Whatever he wants." As Macintosh answered the man's questions the Indian jerked his prey to his feet.
"You mount up," He said as he took the man's pistol. "You try anything, you not see sunset." With that, he remounted his horse. Moments later the foursome was headed back to where the wagons were.
With the two escapees in tow, MacIntosh and Ke Na Tay rode up to the wagons. "Cap'n," he greeted, "Whatcha got there? new made Henry's? Bet they fetch a purtty price." He looked up at the man on the wagon seat. "You boys trade for scalps and the like, 'er injun wimmen to mistreat."
It was a gamble insulting them, but he didn't care. Maybe they'd go for their guns, maybe not. These boys sold white folks lives with those rifles. "These two here," He jerked his thumb at the two, "they weren't real happy to come back this way."
Crabbe watched the proceedings from the rear of the troopers, his eye all the time on Mercier as the others milled around from place to place, reading documents, smashing rifles. It was like taking a shot on a billiard table, you kept your eye on the ball you were trying to pot, but somehow kept an awareness of where all the other balls were on the baize. Problem was, he didn't have a billiard cue to make his play, yet.
These cavalry troopers were jealous of their arms, keeping them safely strapped down in holsters or firmly in their grip. Still, he just needed to wait. Wait and be patient. In the words of Mr McCawber, something always turned up. The two scouts came back with a couple of runners, but still no opportunity presented itself to the vengeful civilian.
Benjamin now waited for his scouts to approach with easy talking distance. He saw they had the pair of men who had tried to escape well in hand, didn't even need to shoot them.
"Cap'n," MacIntosh greeted, "Whatcha got there? new made Henry's? Bet they fetch a purtty price." He looked up at the man on the wagon seat. "You boys trade for scalps and the like, 'er injun wimmen to mistreat."
Mercier glowered but was just too upset to formulate words as he watched his precious cargo being busted into useless scrap metal.
"No, Mr. MacIntosh, all these rifles are defective goods. I have ordered them destroyed lest Mercier here peddle them to innocent customers," Benjamin was dripping with sarcasm.
"These two here," the scout jerked his thumb at the two, "they weren't real happy to come back this way."
"Well, I don't give a damn about their feelings. But good work," the captain shrugged.
Just then another trooper approached the discussion carrying a small barrel in both hands, it seemed heavy though.
"Excuse me, sir, but we found these in the other wagon. There's liquid in 'em," he duly reported.
"Set it down, trooper. Then stave it in and let's see what sort of liquid," Bejamin already knew the answer even as he watched the soldier use the butt of his carbine to obey orders.
"Someone hand us a cup!" Barlow ordered and his young bugler came trotting up with his tin mess kit cup in hand.
"Thanks," Barlow knelt on one knee and dipped the cup into the liquid, then sniffed it, followed by taking a sip. He had been right in his assessment.
Standing up he turned and offered the cup to MacIntosh, "Apparently meant for his Indian friends, what do you think, Mr.MacIntosh does this stuff seem fit for sale in your opinion?"
MacIntosh took a long drink, and promptly spit it out spit it out. “That ain’t fit for nothin’ ‘cept perhaps a coal oil replacement. Doubt them Injuns use oi lamps.” He gave Mercer a long hard look. “Reckon this fella and his friends were figurin’ on starting some real trouble for white folks hereabouts.”
There were just two things MacIntosh couldn’t abide, selling guns and or whiskey of any sort to Indians, especially hostiles. There were things he’d learned from both the Apaches and the Pimas that these men were qualified for, but he doubted the Captain would be willing to use any of those things, no matter how deserving the men were.
Benjamin knew that MacIntosh was onto his scheme to deprive this so called legal gun and whiskey runner his trade goods. He figured the man would never testify against him if it came to it. At this point, Benjamin wasn't taking into account future consequences to his career anyhow. The guns especially could never fall into the hands of hostile Indians. He had seen to that.
Benjamin turned once more to his troopers, "Gentleman, stove in all those casks and dump 'em! Every last drop!"
Mercier was beside himself, "You simply can't do this! I paid for these goods and have a legal right to sell them!"
"I'm no businessman, Mr. Mercier, but I'd say you got swindeled. All of these goods were worthless. But that's your problem, not mine," Barlow smiled coldly.
"This is an outrage!" the man blathered on.
Benjamin stepped up to him and threw a sudden punch, knocking the fellow to the ground, "Outrage? Don't start with me on outrage. An outrage is giving guns and firewater to Indians who will then use it to kill whites, mostly settlers who come out here to start up a new life for their families. If I had the authority, I would hang you right now, you bastard. So do not start with me about outrage."
MacIntosh looked on, smiling, with an occasional glace at a stoic Ke Na Tay. Once Mercer hit the ground and the Captain had his say MacIntosh leaned a bit forward in the saddle and said, "Now I ain't no businessman neither Cap'n. Not hardly. I reckon we best find out where he was planning to meet up with the Injuns, they'll be plenty sore when he don't show."
Then he sat back, his saddle creaking lightly, looked to his partner and back to the Captain. "Was we to locate an ant hill, I figure Ki Na Tay here could find out right pronto anything you'd like to know, well 'less Mercer here jest comes clean on his own." Apaches were known for their odd, if not inhumane sense of humor, and that just might loosen the man's tongue.