Free McAllister Rides by Matt Chisholm Page A

buck drove him away with his quirt. Then the Indians walked back to the old man and squatted in a semi-circle around him. Not once did any of them offer McAllister so much as a glance. He felt a great fool sitting tied there and, he admitted frankly to himself, not a little scared. Any minute now, he thought, he could have his throat cut.
    The old man offered the jug around and all the Indians drank. Then they smoked and exchanged a few guttural words. Islop looked at McAllister and cackled with laughter. McAllister only wanted to get his hands on the old villain for two minutes. Eagle Man started to talk. He talked for what seemed a long time. McAllister sat and sweated. Islop made a lengthy reply and the jug was passed around again.
    â€œAll I want now,” McAllister thought, “is for them Indians to get liquored up and I’m dead.”
    The women brought food from the house and they ate. They drank again and talked some more. Islop turned to McAllister and said: “It’s the Bourn woman Iron Hand has, all right. The old man is real proud of her and it’s goin’ to take an awful lot of presents and persuadin’ to make him change his mind. The way I see it, he ain’t goin’ to change his mind.”
    â€œTell ’em the soldier chief will be very angry if she is not returned and will come with many soldiers.”
    The old man snarled: “You want to make ole Iron Hand laugh? He ain’t afeerd of no soldiers. You’ll have to think of somethin’ better’n that.”
    McAllister tried again.
    â€œI have many fine presents for his wives. I have a fine rifle for him and much ammunition.”
    â€œWhat kind of a rifle?”
    â€œA Remington.”
    â€œSingle-shot?”
    â€œYes, but it’s good.”
    â€œIron Hand has a Spencer repeater. You can’t tempt him, son. You should know that a Comanche chief don’t set no store by worldly goods. He gives everything away. All he frets about is reputation.”
    â€œI have a pair of glasses. Tell Eagle Man, the chief will be able to see from a long way off.”
    â€œHe already has a pair he took from an army captain. You’ll have to do better’n that.” The old man seemed highly amused.
    â€œTell him if he don’t give her up I’ll come and cut his fool throat personally.”
    That set the old man off with cackles of delight. He slapped his bony thigh and cried out: “Jest like your ole man.” He talked to the Indians some more. They grunted. Eagle Man made a cutting motion with the edge of his hand. The talk was finished. He rose, blanket hunched around him and waddled close to McAllister, stared hard into his face for a moment, then waddled away. The other Indians rose and went to their horses. They wheeled them away from the corral and went riding off into the trees. The old man rose and said:“That didn’t get us very damned far did it. But at least they didn’t finish you off, boy, which could be a good sign.”
    McAllister said: “Take these damned ropes off’n me, Islop.”
    â€œNot yet. Later maybe.”
    â€œIf later why not now?”
    â€œYou’ll see.”
    Islop went to fixing the trap again, contentedly smoking his pipe in the sun. McAllister sat and fumed for an hour then, exhausted by the riding and lack of sleep for the past few days, thought he might as well make the best of a bad job and fell into a doze. He was awakened by the sound of gunfire.
    He sat upright and stared around him.
    The old man was on his feet, staring off into the trees.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” McAllister demanded.
    â€œMy guess is,” Islop said, “Newby’s meetin’ his comeuppance.” There seemed to be some satisfaction in his voice. McAllister struggled vainly with his bonds. Every instinct in him made him want to be with the Texans.
    â€œGet this goddam rope off’n me,” he roared. The old