Read Online Trouble Trail by J. T. Edson - Free Book Online

to allow her to ask for assistance.
    ‘Hey, Calam!’ yelled the man in the wagon behind them. ‘Get rolling.’
    ‘Do you want help, or shall I have a couple of the boys come boost you up?’ Calamity asked and bitterly Eileen conceded defeat.
    After being helped on to the box by a pull from Calamity’s strong arms, Eileen sat down hard and looked into what would be her home for the next four weeks or more. Although the rear of the wagon carried a load of wooden boxes, a piece at the front remained clear, apart from her baggage and a camp-bed—and a war-bag, bed-roll and a wooden box of battered aspect which certainly did not belong to her.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Calamity remarked, seeing the way Eileen eyed the latter. ‘I sleep under the wagon most nights.’
    Already the wagon train had started to roll, following the wagon master’s vehicle in single file. Killem’s outfit would bring up the rear and it only remained for the cavalry escort to make its appearance. Which it did, bringing an exclamation of surprise and amazement from Calamity.
    With Bigelow at their head, a force of twenty troopers under a lieutenant and Sergeant Muldoon swept from the fort. Only they looked like they were riding a general’s review, not handling an escort duty through wild country. Each man wore his regulation uniform blouse over his shirt and their short-legged boots had a shine to match the glint of their brass work. More than that, each man carried a sabre in addition to his carbine and revolvers; a thing which, artists’ impressions or not, rarely if ever went into action against the horse-Indians of the plains.
    ‘Land-snakes!’ Calamity gasped. ‘Just lookit old Paddy Muldoon there. My, don’t he look right elegant and becoming all togged up in his shiny best. Say, they must be expecting good buffalo hunting, way they’re toting them over-growed carving knives along.’
    ‘Those are sabres!’ Eileen answered.
    ‘Do tell. What do they use ‘em for, ‘cepting looking fancy?’
    ‘They fight with them!’
    ‘Whooee!’ Calamity gasped, although she knew well enough what a sabre was for. ‘I’d sure as hell hate to tangle with a Cheyenne or Sioux buffalo lance with one of them things in my hand.’
    Not wishing to encourage familiarity, Eileen let the matter drop and Calamity stopped talking as she prepared to start her wagon rolling.
    ‘Wagon roll!’ Killem roared.
    ‘Hang on, gals,’ Calamity warned. ‘And don’t blush if I have to do some cussing. These hosses are common cusses like me and don’t take to soft talking.’
    The wagon ahead started and Calamity swung her whip, yelling to her horses. She gave her full attention to the team as it took up the strain on the harness, and flicked the centre near-side horse with the tip of her whip to make sure it did not shirk its share of the load. With a lurch, the big wagon began to roll, but Calamity gave her horses a blistering string of profanity just to let them know she was still around. At last the team settled down and Calamity relaxed, turning with a grin to Molly.
    ‘Wasn’t that a party last night?’
    ‘Did you enjoy it?’ asked Molly.
    ‘I always enjoy a good—dance,’ Calamity answered with her reckless grin. ‘That Beau Resin’s got his points, Molly, gal. If you see what I mean and I reckon you don’t.’
    An angry flush crept to Eileen’s cheeks as she read an implication into the words that Calamity had not meant to be there. On the way West Eileen had shown some considerable interest in Resin and thought Calamity knew of this. Eileen took it that Calamity knew of the friendship and tried to annoy her by hints at a very close relationship with the big scout.
    ‘I really enjoyed myself last night,’ Molly admitted, seeing the expression on Eileen’s face and changing the subject—or so she hoped—to safer ground.
    ‘Sure,’ grinned Calamity. ‘I saw you and that bow-necked shiny-butt.’
    ‘Wade’s not bow-necked, or a