Free Mississippi Raider by J.T. Edson

establishment devoted to gambling
by its owner. She was equally cognizant of the fact that, having
been discharged from the United States Army by a court-martial
following an accusation of cheating in a poker game for high stakes
and acquiring the reputation for being a successful duelist with
two fatalities to his credit, the man she was visiting was regarded
as persona non grata by well-raised feminine society throughout the
whole of Baton Bayou Parish.
    Bringing the roan gelding to a
halt in front of the main entrance to the property, Belle was
amused by the reaction from the young Negro who came running up on
discovering that she was a young woman dressed in masculine attire
and having weapons fastened to her saddle. However, having said
that he thought she could have come to the wrong place, without
explaining why he had reached such a conclusion, he offered to take
charge of the animal. Remarking that she was unsure of how long her
business with Captain de-Farge would take, she removed the sword
and pistols from the rig and surrendered the reins. Shaking his
head in puzzlement instead of making any further comment, the man
proceeded to lead the horse around the end of the building in a way
that suggested it was a regular part of his duties. Feeling sure
her mount would receive the best of attention, she walked across
the porch and, placing the weapons where they would not be seen by
whoever came in answer to her summons, used the large well-polished
brass knocker in the shaped of a stylized face of the
Devil.
    “ Abandon hope all ye who enter here,” Belle mused with a wry
smile as she listened to the clatter she was making. “Oh well, I’ve
only myself to blame for coming.”
    “ It’s
too early in the d—!” announced an irate feminine voice with what
the girl recognized as being an English accent that had the
suggestion of some culture and refinement acquired by practice
rather than as a result of having been to the manner born. Then
there was the sound of the big door being unlocked and bolts were
withdrawn so the door could be drawn open a short way. Clad in a
pink negligee that left little about her close-to-buxom and firmly
fleshed physical attributes to the imagination and very little else
except for open-toed and high-heeled white mules on her otherwise
bare feet, a clearly less-than-pleased woman looked out. Her hair,
which was of a hue suggestive in its redness of being in part
achieved by the use of henna, was rumpled and her face devoid of
the makeup it would almost certainly have in other circumstances.
Showing an increasing disdain, she ran her gaze up and down in a
way Belle found to be most annoying. “Oh, you’re one of them, are
you?”
    “ I beg
your pardon?” the girl queried, genuinely puzzled by the cryptic
way in which the statement was made.
    “ Sorry, girlie,” the redhead said, still showing the
superciliousness. “You’ve come to the wrong place. We only offer
gambling and the occasional bout of fisticuffs for our gentlemen
guests. Mrs. Jackson’s the one you want to go and see to
play those kind of games.”
    “ Just
a moment!” Belle snapped, knowing the woman who had been named ran
what was politely termed a “house of ill repute” despite the
pretense of being an actress. Belle was not sufficiently lacking in
world matters that she failed to understand the implication of the
explanation. “I want to see Captain de-Farge.”
    “ I
just bet you do, girlie,” the redhead sneered, and she started to close the
door.
    Before the move could be completed, the door
was given a push by the slender girl with such force that the woman
involuntarily took a couple of paces backward to avoid being struck
by it.
    “ I
said I want to see Captain de-Farge,” Belle stated grimly, taking
grave exception to the way she was being addressed and stepping
across the threshold into what she guessed must be the main
entrance hall of the building. Annoyed by the greeting she had
received and