McAllister by Matt Chisholm

they was on board, did you come back to the corral or did you keep your eyes on the wagons till they was there?”
    George stared at him belligerently for a moment and Mcallister snarled: “Well, did you?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t and you know I didn’t. I checked ’em aboard and come on back.”
    â€œOkay. Then you go and take a look in Carmody’s crates and tell me what’s inside ’em.”
    George went, muttering mutinously under his breath. Not long after, he returned muttering audibly, informing them that Carmody’s crate contained just a lot of garbage and sand.
    â€œThat fat old, low, dirty, skulking, two-timing, crooked crawling bastard,” he finished in righteous outrage. “What does it mean, boss? What’s he got to gain by this?”
    â€œIt’s plain,” Mcallister told him. “Carmody isn’t interested in this train reaching the Fort.”
    â€œWhat’s he want his own goods stopped for?”
    â€œThat’s not what I said. This train’s going to be stopped and Carmody knows it.”
    â€œWhat—that fat, old—?”
    â€œNot him personally.”
    George was puzzled.
    â€œThen what’s he want to stop it for?”
    â€œWe’re carrying an army payroll.”
    The mule-skinner looked as if he had been betrayed.
    â€œYou didn’t tell me nothin’ about this.” He did a piece of thinking, apprehension coming into his eyes. “Franchon runs out on us. That can on’y mean one thing.”
    Mcallister nodded—
    â€œYeah. Right first time. Go to the top of the class. They were going to jump us any day now. The whole Clover outfit. A small army that wouldn’t be scared of Indians. We wouldn’t give them any trouble because there were two of Carmody’s men among us.”
    â€œThat means that driver out there … ”
    â€œGo get him, George,” Mcallister said. “Tie him up.” When Rawlins had gone to carry out that task, Mcallister said to von Tannenberg: “Well, mister, where do we go from here?”
    â€œWe have only one way to go. Forward. But first you get well.”
    â€œWhat?” Mcallister roared. “I’m well. Let me get out of this god-damn bed.”
    â€œYou can’t travel with that leg.”
    â€œWatch me.”
    The scene that followed was a memorable one. Mrs. Bankroft, when she had got over her astonishment at her patient’s claim to rapid recovery under her administrations, protested his escape vigorously. But Mcallister prevailed, as he so often did, and, when one of his men had made a crutch for him, he hobbled painfully into the yard to take charge of his side of the operation of moving out of here. In agreement with von Tannenberg, he had Carmody’s wagon burned, so that the mules could be used as spares for the other wagons. The first thing any attackers would try for was the lead mules. One of these down and the whole train was halted.
    Next he and the lieutenant planned the routine of the march, got into the men’s heads exactly what they must do at a shouted command, wagons to circle with the animals to the center on order, outriders to be prepared for sorties at given signals, direct or by making a circling movement. The Prussian was all for modifying military tactics to the situation and had learned a lot from his several campaigns against the Apache. He had the sabers stored in a wagon as worse than useless and saw to it that each mounted man travelled as light as possible. The horses were nursed for the remainder of the day and night that the train remained at the ranch. They would be ready to move out thirty minutes after dawn on the following day.

7
    Gato Rested in the heart of the
malpais
forty miles from Mesquite Springs among his followers, unflattered by the fact that he and his handful of men had half Arizona and two Mexican provinces in a state of acute alarm. He was unaware that