The Floating Outfit 53: Master of Triggernometry (A Floating Outfit Western), page 1
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The last thing Daniel ‘Bull’ Keleney wanted was for the children of Grattan, Texas, to receive an education. Being a ruthless man, he was willing to go to any lengths to prevent it—he had already forced every schoolteacher who had arrived to leave Grattan, and had arranged the murder of the latest one during what appeared to be a robbery.
And when he saw the insignificant looking young couple who arrived as replacements, the town boss felt sure that they would be easier to drive out than any of their predecessors. But that was the biggest mistake of Bull Keleney’s life, for the girl’s real name was Betty Hardin, and her companion was her cousin, the master of triggernometry—Dusty Fog!
THE FLOATING OUTFIT 53: MASTER OF TRIGGERNOMETRY
By J. T. Edson
First published by Corgi Books in 1980
Copyright © 1980, 2020 by J. T. Edson
First Kindle Edition: November 2020
Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book
Series Editor: Ben Bridges
Text © Piccadilly Publishing
Published by Arrangement with the Author’s Agent.
Author’s Note
Although some of the events recorded herein first appeared as, Part One, ‘The Schoolteacher’, THE HARD RIDERS, we did not have access to the full details at that time. These have now been made available to us by Alvin Dustine ‘Cap’ Fog, together with permission to reproduce them.
We realize that, in our present ‘permissive’ society, we could include the actual profanities used by various people, but we do not concede that a spurious desire to create ‘realism’ is a valid reason to do so. Lastly, as we do not conform to the current ‘trendy’ pandering to the exponents of the metric system, we will continue to employ pounds, ounces, miles, yards, feet and inches where weights and distances are concerned, except when referring to the calibers of such weapons as are gauged in millimeters.
J. T. Edson
For Eugene Cunningham, whose book, TRIGGERNOMETRY, has been a great source of information and interest.
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
One – That’s Faster Than the Prince
Two – Make Sure He Can’t Blab
Three – Four to One on the Local Girl
Four – It’s Over and She’s Beaten
Five – How Come She Got Unconscious
Six – Get the Bastard Who Killed Him!
Seven – A Good Amigo of Ole Devil Hardin
Eight – We’re a Disappointment to You
Nine – You’re Better Off Than Me
Ten – Have You Been Beating Up On My Kids?
Eleven – They’re Getting Too Damned Popular
Twelve – I’ll Fire Him If He Should Kill You
Thirteen – She’s Teaching Him to Wrestle?
Fourteen – Am I Going to Have Fun With You?
Fifteen – We’ve Got Your Wife
Sixteen – Are You All Right, ‘Mr. Ed’?
Seventeen – Keleney Can Read
About the Author
One – That’s Faster Than the Prince
‘Hey now!’ Walter ‘Trader’ Staines ejaculated, remembering just in time to speak in a whisper, despite the surprise he had just received, as he and his companion crouched among the bushes and watched, from the concealment of the foliage, two of the men in the bottom of the valley removing the covers from the horse which they had brought with them. ‘I’ve never set eyes on that bay before!’
‘I didn’t think you would have, Walter,’ Ezekiel Barnsley answered, equally sotto voce. As usual, he refrained from employing the sobriquet by which the other was generally known. His tone and demeanor became charged with warning as he continued, ‘And we’d better make certain they don’t catch us watching it now. Mr. Keleney’s had it brought in secretly to be run in the race on Saturday, but you won’t find it in the stables at his place and it won’t be entered under his name either when they go to the post.’ He paused and glanced at the man by his side as if wanting to make sure his point had been understood. Deducing from the way in which the pair of field glasses brought by the other were being raised as an aid to conducting a closer examination, he went on, ‘What do you think of it?’
Although there had been fairly heavy rain the previous night, the weather was now fine and pleasantly warm without having attained sufficient heat to dry out the ground which had received a soaking from the downpour. The valley was on the rolling plains of South-East Texas some three miles west of Grattan, seat of Dale County. However, the attire of the two watchers suggested they followed more sedentary occupations than those who earned a living by working on the open range country. Both had on none too expensive three piece suits, collarless white shirts, derby hats and footwear which, even in the case of Staines—who was the owner of the town’s only livery barn—was more satisfactory for walking than riding or driving a wagon.
Of medium height, approaching his fiftieth birthday, Staines was thickset although now running to fat. He had an accent which indicated he had either been born or spent much of his life south of the Mason-Dixon line, [i] if not entirely in the Lone Star State. He had thinning brown hair and the jovial, reddened face of a man who spent much of his time out of doors being pleasant to others. Of late, the horse trading from which he had acquired his nickname had been carried out in or around his place of business instead of him having to go in search of it on the range.
Taller and thinner, although conveying an impression to the contrary, Barnsley was a few years younger than his companion. Long hours spent bending over a desk had bowed his narrow shoulders and he peered short-sightedly as a result of his vision having been impaired by frequently perusing documents with great care in indifferent lighting. Such a way of life had given his sharp features the color and texture of ancient parchment. He had the seedy and downtrodden air often found in clerks which was enhanced by the whining timbre of his New England manner of speech. [ii] He looked like others in similar forms of employment, who had grown too old to seek more stimulating work.
‘It’s not a bad looking critter, I’ll admit,’ Staines assessed, lowering the field glasses at the completion of what had been a lengthy and informative study regardless of being carried out at a distance. As had become second nature to him, he had adopted the almost depreciatory manner of one well versed in the art of purchasing, or exchanging, horses. Nor did the tone entirely depart as he continued, ‘Thing being, it’s running and not just looks’s wins races. Which we both of us know how good Bull’s Black Prince is at doing that.’
‘We do indeed,’ Barnsley agreed, with what was remarkable vehemence for him. ‘And that was why I thought, when I chanced to overhear what was to be done, that it could be worth our while to come out here and see what they are up to.’
‘It could be at that,’ Staines admitted, still retaining his horse-trader’s voice and his gaze was speculative, if not out-and-out suspicious, as he turned it to his companion. ‘Only I didn’t know you went in for anything like betting on horse races, Ezekiel.’
‘I don’t make a habit of it, I’ll admit,’ Barnsley conceded. ‘But neither does Mr. Keleney pay me so munificently that I’m averse to acquiring some extra money by making a wager, providing it can be done without the risk of losing of course.’
‘And you reckon it can be?’
‘I can’t guarantee it. All I’m sure of, knowing him as I do, is that Mr. Keleney would not be going to all the trouble he has taken to obtain and bring the horse here in secret unless there’s a very good reason. But I don’t know enough about horses to judge for myself, which is why I asked you to come and give me your opinion.’
‘No offense meant, Ezekiel,’ Barnes claimed in a placatory manner, having caught what he took to be a note of querulous resentment in the clerk’s voice while the explanation was being made. ‘I’m right pleased you told me. Like you say, Bull’s not keeping it out of sight just for the sake of its health and finding out what it’s capable of could pay off good.’
Receiving such an enthusiastic nod that he concluded his apology was accepted, the owner of the livery barn raised the field glasses once more and resumed his scrutiny.
The horse in the valley, a bay gelding with a white star on the brow and three white stockings, was just under fifteen hands and would weigh about one thousand pounds. Even at the distance which separated it from Staines, its excellent health and physical condition was apparent. Its short head had wide-set, intelligent eyes and open nostrils. Well set on powerful shoulders, the neck was sufficiently muscular to augment the broad and deep chest. Short and firmly muscled, the back had well sprung ribs and strong loins, joining massive and rounded hindquarters. All in all, the effect was that of a compact and exceptionally muscular animal; yet it was neither over bulky, clumsy, or awkward on its feet. However, to the uninitiated
The possession of such qualities by the gelding accounted for the watchers being hidden and the clerk’s warning about the necessity of avoiding any indication being given of their presence.
The bay was intended to compete in a forthcoming race—over a distance of four hundred and forty yards—of the kind which had given its breed the name, ‘American quarter horse’. [iii] As it was about to be subjected to a secret trial with the intention of establishing its capability in such an event, probably for purposes of comparison against those of the local and so far undefeated favorite, the men in the bushes felt certain their unauthorized spectating would be far from welcome. What was more, knowing who was involved, the owner of the livery barn had not needed the comment from Barnsley to alert him to the danger. The purchaser of the bay was not the sort of person upon whom it would be advisable, or safe, to be spying when he was engaged in an activity, the result of which he would prefer to keep to himself and his trusted helpers. Regardless of the fact that Staines in particular was not without prominence in the community of Grattan, being caught in the act would almost certainly result in painful repercussions.
At just over six foot, although two of his companions matched him in height and neither could be termed lightweights, Daniel Bernard ‘Bull’ Keleney was by far the most bulky of the quartet under observation. When he wished to convey the impression, his florid features appeared expansively jovial and filled with bonhomie; a carefully cultivated luxuriant black moustache concealing the hard lines of his mouth. However, when angry, he had a habit of rolling his head from side to side, looking at everything and everybody from under his bushy eyebrows in the fashion of an old mossyhorn longhorn bull on the prod.
Owning controlling interests in many of the town’s business concerns as well as a factory which supplied garments throughout Texas, had not given Keleney good taste in clothing. He had a pearl gray derby tilted at the back of a thinning thatch of hair which glistened even blacker from a liberal application of particularly pungent bay rum. [iv] His three piece suit was made of excellent material and well cut, but his appearance was far from improved by it being a black and white check. Nor did the multi-hued silk cravat complement the lime green shirt. A bulky gold watch chain, from which dangled a trio of heavy seals, stretched across the front of his vest. His trousers were tucked untidily into low heeled riding boots. While he wore no weapons in plain view, it was common knowledge among the citizens of Gratton that he carried an ivory handled Colt Storekeeper Model Peacemaker in a spring retention shoulder under the left side of his jacket and he had demonstrated his ability to use it when the need arose.
Accompanied by the burly hard-case who had helped him to remove the blanket, the small man who always rode Black Prince—Keleney’s best and fastest quarter horse-led the bay gelding towards the two posts painted red and white, between which the races he organized were always started. Like Morris ‘Brick’ Shatterhouse and Moses ‘Moe’ Broody, although none of them had ever worked cattle on a ranch, Joseph ‘Little Joey’ Cockburn was wearing cowhand style clothing. In keeping with their duties as enforcers of their employer’s will, the larger pair had on gunbelts with Colt Peacemakers in the tied-down holsters. While the jockey had proved himself a competent gun and fist fighter, he was not armed at that moment.
Neither Keleney nor Shatterhouse followed the other two. Instead, they remained almost in front of the watchers’ place of concealment. Drawing out the expensive Swiss-made watch attached to one end of the gold chain, the town boss glanced from it to the pair of blue and white posts he was facing. These were used to indicate the finishing line for the four hundred and forty yards’ races. Holding the watch cupped in the palm of his massive right hand, he pressed the stud which caused the engraved lid of the ‘hunting case’ to flip up and display the glass covered dial it protected. Then, as a further indication that he was getting ready to time the forthcoming trial, he swung his gaze to the other end of the course.
Receiving the final confirmation that Barnsley had been correct with regards to the quartet’s purpose, Staines laid aside the field glasses and produced his own timepiece from his vest pocket. It was a somewhat battered looking B. W. Raymond ‘railroad watch’ made by the National Watch Company of Elgin, Illinois and had clearly seen a great deal of use. However, while it was not as elegant in appearance as the one held by Keleney, it possessed a similar ‘stop’ mechanism and was noted for its accuracy throughout Dale County. Holding it ready for use, he too devoted his attention to the starting line.
Having passed the red and white posts, Cockburn turned the bay until it was facing in the direction from which it had come and was standing in the center of the course. Raising his right foot, he placed it upon Broody’s cupped hands and was given a boost on to the back of the gelding. That he required such assistance surprised none of the onlookers. They were aware that the necessity was caused by the specialized nature of the saddle upon which he settled himself with the deft ease acquired as a result of considerable training.
Experience gained over many years had taught men involved in the racing of horses over level ground and for comparatively short distances, that the more utilitarian styles of riding failed to produce the most satisfactory results when employed in such competitions.
Derived from the method of ‘hacking’ brought by the colonists from Great—as it was then—Britain, using a ‘flat’, single girthed rig, Eastern horsemen tended to sit in the middle of the saddle and not back on the cantle. With such a ‘seat’, when the feet were properly placed, the stirrup leathers were straight up and down. Except in the case of a very tall rider on a small mount, the leathers were of such a length that—when sitting in the middle and allowing the legs to hang down as far as possible—the bottom of the stirrups and the ankle bones were level. A test of the correct, length was for the rider to keep the feet level and stand erect in the saddle. If all was as it should be, in the majority of cases, there would be a clearance of about two inches between the rider and the rig.
Adequate as the revised version of the ‘English’ seat had been found in the increasingly more developed and civilized East, where other means of transport were available for making longer journeys, it was soon found wanting by riders who needed to travel—or worked mainly on horseback—over the vast areas of open country west of the Mississippi River. Particularly where the cowhand was concerned, a different type of saddle and style of sitting upon it was found necessary.
Riding a horse which might not have acquired a full standard of training and which might frequently be called upon to perform extremely rapid maneuvering at short notice when dealing with the longhorn cattle that were, at best, only half wild, the cowhand required greater security than offered by the ‘flat’ Eastern rig. [v] With that in mind, drawing upon without adhering entirely to the type of saddles used by Mexican vaqueros, the fork and cantle were built up. Having acquired the habit of tying the end of the lariat to the horn when roping, as opposed to ‘dallying’ it so it could be released hurriedly in an emergency, Texans also affixed a second girth to help withstand the strains which would be imposed. [vi] As an aid to remaining on board when the mount was making rapid changes of direction, sliding halts, or even bucking, the Western rider— although retaining the same general length of the stirrup leathers used on the more effete ‘Eastern pleasure’ rig— kept well back on the saddle.
Satisfactory as they were for the needs of their users, neither ‘Eastern’ nor ‘Western’ styles were suitable where a jockey in a ‘flat’ race was concerned.
Having been helped to mount, Cockburn was perched upon the diminutive, feather-weight, single girthed saddle that was situated well up on the withers of the bay. He slipped the toes of his boots into the irons of the very short stirrups, already adjusted to his size, which were attached to the front of the saddle. While the arrangement offered only a very precarious and far from comfortable seat, it had the inestimable advantage of placing all his weight in the most suitable position. Such a method of riding could not have been employed for any length of time, nor to cover a great distance. It was not intended to be, but was nevertheless ideal for its present purpose.
