The Return of Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid Read online

Kip Dalton urged Sabre across the railroad tracks. The big black gingerly stepped carefully between the railroad ties. A waiting train, puffing smoke from its stack sat idly in front of the rail station a few hundred feet away. People were disembarking and new travelers stood on the board platform of the station waiting to board. There was hustle and bustle further down the line as workers hurried to unload freight from cars and reload them with awaiting goods.

  The railroad had been a recent addition to Thimble Creek with a spur from the main rail line having been completed only months earlier.

  With anticipation that the railroad’s arrival would bring new growth to Thimble Creek, the new rail was placed a quarter mile to the north of town. It was expected that the newly named town of Fortune City would sprawl at least as far as the railroad station and probably beyond. In the meantime travelers would have to shuttle the quarter mile distance from the out skirts of town to the station.

  Because of its name Kip Dalton would have expected Thimble Creek to have been a much smaller town, but he was already aware that it was a growing community and had already been petitioned to change its name to Fortune City as a reflection of its city's main citizen and benefactor; Simon Price.

  As Kip rode into the main street of Thimble Creek near noon time, he noted the banners that had been strung across the street, high above his head, proclaiming the upcoming celebration and festivities that would usher in the newly changed name of Thimble Creek to Fortune City. Governor Stanton, himself would be on hand.

  The town was alive with the hustle and bustle of merchants and business men going about their daily routines and duties. Townspeople and shoppers we busy going about their necessary business.

  It wasn't often that a man like Kip Dalton came riding into town. A tall handsome, man on a magnificent steed was enough to draw a lot of attention, but a man like Kip Dalton and a gallant stallion like Sabre was enough to stop all activity, turn every head, and draw all attention.

  Kip was used to the attention. He normally expected it. It followed him everywhere. He would have felt it unusual if people were not staring at him, so he did not realize there were some on the street who were staring at him for reasons other than his good looks.

  The well dressed, two gun man, standing in front of the sheriff's office was a strapping, fine figure of a man with broad shoulders and lean hips. Black curly hair peeked out below his broad brimmed black hat with a silver concho hatband. His rugged face was clean shaven. He had a strong chin, razor blade nose and dark piercing black eyes. His name was Peso Martin and was head segundo on Simon Price's enormous ranch as well as his chief gunfighter and right hand man in all of Price’s dirty dealings. He stepped off the wooden sidewalk as Kip Dalton rode by and followed along at a distance behind him in the dusty street.

  As Kip angled the big black stallion slowly to and fro amid the traffic of wagons and horses and riders he noted the numerous establishments bearing the name of Simon Price as owner, partner, trustee or landlord. The bank proclaimed him president, the courthouse proclaimed him judge and mayor, Simon Price was just about everything Kip Dalton already knew about him; maybe even more.

  Midway along the main street, the street widened creating room for a town square or gathering place. On the right side of the square was the town hall and courthouse. To the left side was an ornate three floor hotel. The second floor of the building had obviously been added on, as a section of roofing still protruded beneath the windows of second floor. Beyond the town square the street once again narrowed to a normal width street.

  Kip spotted the hotel. Noting that it also housed a restaurant, he reminded himself that it had been a while since breakfast and he had had a long ride and a busy morning. He reflected on the early morning skirmish and the young girl with the streaming auburn hair. He smiled to himself and wondered once again what that had all been about.

  He reined Sabre off to the opposite side of the street from the hotel, and a ways further down from the square, having noticed that there were no hitchrails in front of the hotel. The frontage had been left open for carriages to drop off and pick up guests.

  Kip tied up the stallion, walked down and across the street and entered the lobby of the hotel.

  It was quite elegant for a western town and the lobby was furnished with fine furniture.

  Off to the left the hotel manager was attending to guests at the desk. Immediately to the left of the desk was a stairway that led to the upstairs and farther to the left was the attached restaurant. Kip could hear the tinkling of glass and the scrape of silverware along with the buzz of conversation in the dining room. He was heading straight for the restaurant when a blonde haired lady appeared on the stairway to his left.

  She wasted no time in making her presence known. Kip turned suddenly to glance up the stairway. The lady was making her way down quickly but in a way that made it look like she was in no hurry.

  "Well, hello there, tall, dark and handsome," Flo Baxter said. Her voice was low and sultry and she had no shame when it came to being forward. Actually, she had no shame at all. After all, she didn't have time to wait for the niceties or proprieties that took time. Time for her was running out. Years and three husbands had slipped away. She had to resort to heavy makeup these days. She amply filled out her tight clinging low cut blouse and extra poundage around her waist tugged at the fabric of her skirt. "You're new in town," she said, stating it as a fact, rather than a question.

  "That, I am, indeed, ma'am," Kip answered, smiling broadly. His cheeks had a way of puffing into large bubbles beneath his sparkling gray eyes. He swept his hat off in a broad gesture and bowed gallantly. A lock of his raven black hair fell into a comma onto his forehead. "Kiplinger R. Dalton, at your service. And yes, I just rode into town." Flo's forward approach had not put him off one bit.

  "I'm Flo Baxter." Flo reached out her hand as she stepped off the last step of the staircase. Kip took it graciously in both hands and caressed it. "Miss Flo Baxter," she reiterated, making sure he got the message.

  "I live here in the hotel," Flo announced as a follow up. Might as well get right to the point. "Are you going to be staying here, too?"

  "Well, probably not here at the hotel, but I am buying some land around here, so I expect I'll be in the area for quite some time."

  "Oh, that will be so nice," Flo gushed. She put another hand on top of Kip's and wasn't letting him let her go. "Perhaps we'll be seeing more of each other then."

  "I certainly hope so," Kip said. "I was just on my way to get some lunch," Kip added, sensing Flo's tug on his hand meant she wasn't about to let him go. "Would you care to join me Miss Baxter?"

  "Oh, I'd just love to," Flo said, releasing his hand and taking his arm. "Just call me Flo, Kiplinger, you said?"

  "Kip. Just call me Kip."

  Kip and Flo had been seated at a small round table in the middle of the dining room. Since this was the height of the lunch period, business was fairly brisk and the room was nearly two thirds full.

  They had barely given their orders to the waitress and relinquished their menus when three men burst into the dining room. One was a lean man wearing a silver star on his vest; Deputy Sims. The others were Peso Martin and another rough looking man who also wore two guns in gunslinger fashion.

  Peso Martin had the swagger of a man on a mission. He knew the man he was after was in there. He had seen his big black stallion tethered outside and he had seen the man entering the hotel. He had talked with the desk clerk and checked the register and knew the man had not checked in, so he had to be in the restaurant. He no sooner entered the dining area when he spotted the man he was after. Peso was already an angry man, but now his anger rose to new heights when he saw that this man was with Flo Baxter. She was supposed to be Peso's girl, even if Simon Price thought she was his girl. The truth was she was everybody's and nobody's girl, but he would always believe just what he wanted to believe and just what she wanted him to believe.

  Peso motioned to Sims and
the other man, and strode deliberately across the room towards Kip's table. The other two followed close behind.

  Without breaking stride, Peso stepped close behind Kip's chair, twisted his body to stand directly behind him.

  Kip's attention was on the conversation with Flo and didn't notice the movement behind him. Flo did notice, though, but knowing Peso the way she did, and just being Flo Baxter, she knew better than to give anything away. Her eyes never wavered and Kip never so it coming.

  With one swift motion, Peso Martin reached down, under, and around Kip Dalton, plucking his pistol quickly from its holster. He tossed it to the floor and in a following split second he had used both hands to grasp Kip by the back of his collar and pull him to his feet

  "He's the one, alright, Sims," Peso said as he shoved Kip into the deputy's arms. Sims had his Colt out and pointed at Kip as he held him at bay.

  By now the whole dining room was in an uproar. Diners were excited and jumping up from their tables.

  "Nothing to get excited about, folks," Sims said, lifting his voice to be heard above the din. "We'll get this fellow out of here and you can get back to your lunch. You'll probably hear all about it later on. For now, it's nothing to concern yourselves over."

  '"Well, I think this is something to concern myself over," Kip said. "Mind telling me what this is all about?"

  "You know what it's all about," Peso Martin scoffed.

  "If I did, I wouldn't be asking."

  "You saying you never saw me before?"

  "Well, if I have, I guess you weren't that memorable. Look, you may be good looking and I may be too. I don't know which way you swing, but I sure don't."

  Peso balled his fist and took a step forward.

  "Hold it, Peso," Sims said. "Let it go. He's just trying to rile you."

  Then to Kip, Sims said, "You denying that you shot at this man and his posse this morning?"

  "I shot at a bunch of men this morning sure. If this man was with them, I didn't distinguish him from any of the rest. As for shooting at a posse, I didn't see any badges. All I saw was a lot of hard cases chasing some old men, a boy and a girl. It looked like a mighty unfair situation to me, so I took a hand in it."

  "Unfair?" Peso Martin shouted. "I'll tell you what was unfair. You just helped the most vicious outlaw gang in the entire southwest to escape. That's what you did."

  "Vicious?" Kip laughed. "You must be joking. Now I know you're a pansy."

  Peso could no longer contain himself. He stepped forward, pulled Kip around, away from Sims and planted his fist squarely in the middle of Kip's face, squashing his nose, drawing blood and forcing Kip's head and shoulders sharply backwards. His toes lifted off the floor and he rocked backward on his heels, smashing into Sims and driving the lean deputy's body back and sideways out of the way.

  The blow had come so suddenly and with such surprise and shock that Kip was completely taken off balance. He was still skittering backwards on his heels; his arms splayed outwards and drooping downwards as Peso stepped in close burying his fist into Kip's mid-section. Kip doubled over, letting out a whoosh of air. A dull glaze washed over his eyes and his arms instinctively recoiled to cover his aching stomach, but just in time to feel Peso's knee slam up under his chin with a driving force that straightened his body to full height and he stumbled backward, pushing a table aside and slamming his back flat against the restaurant wall.

  The shock of the impact was enough to clear his vision for only a moment, but just enough to see Peso charging at him once more; head down, body bent, face twisted into a nasty snarl.

  At just the right moment¸ Kip slid aside, grasping Peso by the back of his collar and his gunbelt and slammed the man headfirst into the wall. Martin bounced back dazedly, Kip still retaining his grasp. He pulled Peso's body back a few more inches and rammed his head into the wall again.

  Then, huffing and puffing, trying to stay on his own feet, Kip hauled the dazed Peso Martin to an almost standing position. Peso's legs were useless and he couldn't put his feet down. Blood dripped down the side of his face and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. Kip tried hard to hold the man up with one hand while he balled his fist and cocked his elbow to give him one last finishing blow, but he was unsteady on his feet and his strength was waning. With one big sigh of defeat, he released Peso and let him drop to the floor. He let his arms droop before him and wheezed resolutely between gasping breaths, "All right¸ deputy. Do what you want with me. I won't give you any trouble."

  "No, I don't think you will," Sims said with a wry grin. Then to the third man that had come in with him, Sims said, indicating Peso Martin. "Billings, get him out of here and get him fixed up before we have to explain this."

  "Is there a lawyer in this town?" Kip Dalton asked as Sims ushered him inside the cell at the rear of the sheriff's office. The deputy pulled the door shut and turned the key.

  "Sure," he said. "Andrew Wharton. He's town counsel. public defender, prosecuter and Simon Price's legal advisor."

  "Great," Kip scoffed. "Is there anything else, he is? He wouldn't happen to be judge, jury, and executioner too, would he?"

  Sims grinned, noting the sarcasm. "Well now that you mention it, he ain't the judge." His grin spread wider and his eyes sparkled. "Mister Price happens to hold that title all by himself. But Wharton is about to become the judge's son in law right soon."

  "That's just great, and I suppose there's no other lawyer in this town, I could hire?"

  "Nope."

  "Maybe, I could send a wire and bring someone in."

  "Now just how are you gonna do that?" Sims chided. "It costs money to send telegrams and hire lawyers and last time I looked, you ain't got none."

  "What are you talking about?" Kip said reaching for his inside pocket and pulling out his wallet. He noticed immediately how flat it felt. He didn't have to look inside it to know it was empty.

  "Hey what's going on here?" He growled "What did you do with my money."

  "You did a lot of damage to the restaurant and hotel, mister. We had to pay off what you owed. I can't help it if there was nothing left. You should have behaved yourself."

  "Why do I get the feeling, it wouldn't have made any difference?" Kip said. It wasn't a question.

  Sims just laughed.

  "So, I guess, in other words, my goose is cooked, is that right?"

  "Right down to the giblets," Sims chuckled, bobbing his head up and down gleefully.

  "And I suppose I'm charged with helping desperate criminals evade the law, is that it?"

  "That and disturbing the peace. Damage to private property, assaulting officers of the law, vagrancy and no visible means of support. I guess that just about covers it. I guess that's enough to put you away for a long time working hard labor in Mister Price's silver mine. That's where we usually send fellas like you. You look like a strong man. I reckon you can handle a pick and shovel right well."

  "Somehow Mister Deputy," Kip said with a forceful tone. "I think you're going to find out that you’ve made one big mistake here." He hadn't wanted to reveal the real purpose for his presence in Thimble Creek, but the situation was getting entirely out of hand. "I demand to see Simon Price at once," Kip ordered.

  "Oh. The big man demands to see Simon Price," Sims mocked. "I'm sure he'll want to come running right over to see what you want. Maybe he'll bring you a lollipop. Now, why don;t you just sit down and shut up."

  With a flourish, he jingled his keys triumphantly, turned and his heel and strode out of the cell area back to the office. He whistled "Yankee Doodle" as he went.

  "What did you say the prisoner's name was?" Sheriff Harvey Trask demanded. of his deputy.

  It was mid-afternoon when the sheriff returned from delivering his prisoners. He had caught Sims in his usual position, sleeping in the sheriff's chair with his feet up on the desk. Trask had caught his deputy like this many times before and it always irritated him. He deliberately slammed the door behind him, making as much noise as p
ossible.

  Sims jerked awake with a start. His eyes were barely open, but open enough to catch a glimpse of the stout sheriff tossing his hat on a hook next to the door and striding across the floor. Sims was still trying to scramble out of the chair as Trask purchased a hold on his shoulder and hauled him completely out of it. Sims stumbled across the floor, regaining full consciousness by the time he managed to stand erect.

  Trask demanded a report of any happenings during his absence and Sims lost no time in relaying the harrowing experience of the night before when he had been visited by the Wildcat Gang. Trask was visibly upset by the news that Wildcat Kitty and The Cyclone Kid were back in the territory. He was now more relieved than ever that Simon Price had agreed to remove the four young boys from the Thimble Creek jail to another area altogether, even though he feared that when The Wildcats found out what they had done with the boys, there might be hell to pay.

  As the thought of new dangers crowded his mind, he did not listen closely to the more mundane news of an additional prisoner in his jail. It was not until he heard something about this prisoner aiding The Wildcat Gang that he finally took notice and then something about what Sims said about the man's name got his attention.

  "What did you say that prisoner’s name was?" Trask asked again.

  "Uh, Dolan, Dawson, something like that," Sims said. He wrinkled his brow and squinted. "No. I remember now. It's Dalton, Kiplinger Dalton."

  Trask grimaced. "Not Major Kiplinger Remington Dalton?" He fumed with exasperation.

  "I dunno. He is wearing soldier pants."

  "For Crissakes, get him outta there and go get Simon."

  Chapter Eight