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

Point or with only a few years service, all hot and eager to get better acquainted with the pretty little blonde. For her part Molly revelled in a chance to talk with somebody of her own age and class. Five minutes flashed by and the little blonde saw that Calamity had backed away. Excusing herself, Molly went after the other girl.
    ‘Where are you going, Calam?’ she asked.
    ‘Back to my kind of folks. You stay there and have fun with yours.’
    ‘But I—’
    ‘Look, honey.’ Calamity said with a smile. ‘You wouldn’t be happy down there with us when we start celebrating; and I sure as hell couldn’t set down and enjoy myself among the brass.’
    ‘But—but—’
    ‘Hey, Molly, come on!’ called one of the officers.
    Laying her hand on Molly’s arm. Calamity squeezed it gently, smiling. ‘Go on. gal. Have your fun. Comes morning I’ll visit and we’ll “woman” over tonight.’
    Without another word, Calamity turned and walked away. Molly could see no sign of dejection in Calamity’s walk and the red-head called out cheery greetings to various people, being received with laughter and friendly attitudes that had not shown while the girl stood with Molly and the officers. Then Molly realised that her social chatter with the officers must have been over Calamity’s head and probably bored the other girl. It was just another case of like calling to like. She and Calamity were worlds apart in social life and neither could be truly happy in the other’s area.
    Molly turned a head towards the young officers, glancing back over her shoulder. It seemed that Calamity must have been thinking about her, for the red-head had turned, Calamity gave Molly a broad grin, turned after waving and mingled with the crowd.
    Music sounded as the Regimental Band approached. Night was falling and eager hands built up the various fires so that all who wished to dance would have plenty of light by which to do so.
    Joining Beau Resin, who showed considerable pleasure at her company, Calamity headed for where the crowd of poorer folk congregated to have their fun. While heading for the dance ground, Calamity saw the piggy, sullen face of Sergeant Hack. His presence did not worry her any; having handled him once, she figured she could do so again, even without the help of the big young scout.
    Watching the girl and Resin join the crowd. Hack gave thought to taking revenge on her. He knew something of his captain and guessed Bigelow would not be overkeen on taking Calamity along on the train. Nor would the train’s women if it came to a point; a girl as unconventional as Calamity would be an anathema to them. If she became involved in some unseemly incident, the women would demand that she be expelled from the train.
    Once having decided that, Hack put a smart and scheming brain to causing an incident. All he needed was the right sort of man to carry his plans out, for Hack was a thinker not a fighter and as such never put himself in a position of danger if he could help it. A booming roar of laughter from a group of soldiers drew Hack’s attention to them. They were tanned. tough, hard-riding combat non-coms, fighting sergeants and corporals who had little but contempt for an office soldier of Hack’s type—unless the shiny-butt showed up suitably supplied and equipped. Hack had just the kind of equipment he needed. Turning, he headed back to the fort and collected something guaranteed to sweeten the heart of any combat non-com.
    Not knowing the fate in store for her, Calamity joined in the dances and threw herself into having a good time with her usual verve and spirit. She and Resin led the sets, urged more and more folks to dance and led the applause which came at the end of each dance. At odd intervals as the time passed Calamity saw Hack standing with the group of non-coms, but she thought little of it. There was some drinking being done and combat soldiers had always been known for sociability when bending their elbows.