Under the Sweetwater Rim (1971) (13 page)

The view down the mountain was good, but up the mountain it was masked by close-growing trees, blowdowns, and rocks. He could make out a steep and very narrow trail, weaving among the rocks and trees. It had probably been used by Indians and by game, but where it went Brian could not guess. Looking down, he could see that some of the renegades' horses, recaptured, were tied to trees near the camp. There was no person in sight. Was Ironhide a prisoner there, or was he lurking in some such hiding place as Brian had found? His own position here was perfect, except that he would not be able to get down the mountain easily, but would have to go round about. Sheltered from view as well as from wind and rain, he sat on a log and watched. After a while a man came out from the lean-to, gathered some fuel, and went back inside.

Suddenly there was a pound of hoofs and a party of four horsemen came up, dismounted and walked up to the lean-to, which had grown in size with added work.

Brian stood up, craning his neck for a better view. He saw that one of the riders was Reuben Kelsey!

The man must weigh two hundred and fifty pounds, and was broad and powerful. He wore a buckskin jacket, fringed, and the muscles of his shoulders and arms made the material bulge. He had a heavy shock of almost blonde hair and a mustache.

Big as he was, he moved with ease and grace, stepping lightly. The men behind him were an oddly assorted crew, but they looked like tough customers.

All of them disappeared inside. He had no desire to make contact with the renegades if it could be avoided. What he wanted was to get the payroll back, and he wanted Ironhide safe.

His problem now was to find out where they both were, and what Kelsey intended to do. It had been years since he had known Kelsey, but he doubted if the man's character had changed much. He had been a bold, daring boy, gifted with animal cunning, a ferocious fighter with fists or any kind of weapon.

Brian's first conclusion was, he was positive, the correct one. Reuben Kelsey would try to get all the sixty thousand dollars for himself. That would mean he had first had to get rid of most of the men, get them off on a chase or by some sort of excuse. Then he had to get the money away from the others and ride out of the country.

West was the most likely direction. East would take him in the direction of Fort Laramie, of Julesburg, just the places he would be recognized by the renegades or their friends. West, but not directly; it would be northwest. He would try for the mines in Montana, for Virginia City, or-his But why? Kelsey did not need more money; he would want to spend what he had, and that meant San Francisco or the East. East meant through Blackfoot country, or the edge of it through Sioux country, where army patrols might be encountered.

San Francisco then, but by the Oregon Trail to the coast. And yet, even as Brian decided that was what Reuben Kelsey would do, he felt a stir of doubt. He could remember Reuben ... he had always been devious, likely to do the unexpected.

First things first. Undoubtedly some of the men were hunting Ten Brian and the women, or would be soon, and Kelsey would find some way to get rid of the others.

Brian sat still, studying the layout anew. There seemed to be no way of approaching the lean-to without being seen, and now, since the women were freed, the renegades would be doubly on guard.

Again Kelsey came outside, and he stood there in the open, looking around. He stretched, then turned casually and looked up at the mountain.

Instinctively, Brian drew back, then cursed himself for a fool. There was no chance that he could be seen, hidden as he was, but from Kelsey's manner he would have sworn the man knew that he was there. Not only was he sure that Kelsey was aware of his presence; more than that, he felt that Kelsey was glad that he was there!

In the valley of the Sweetwater, Major Devereaux sat under the canvas shelter and worked on the report he must send back to the Fort.

Thus far he had seen no evidence of hostiles, but he had met and fought a brief skirmish with renegades led by Reuben Kelsey. This would be important information, and it changed the status of things somewhat.

Kelsey was not a man to be taken lightly, nor was his presence on the Overland Trail. Rounding him up was a matter of the greatest importance. So was the recovery of the payroll, to say nothing of his own daughter and the wife of Captain Renick. At this point he was without information. His hunters had killed two buffalo, several antelope, and one deer.

Now the men were eating, and at the moment resting.

Four scouts were out, working in two pairs. One pair had ridden into the mountains to the east of Granite Peak; the other two men had been scouting the plains to the south and west. Lieutenant Cahill, with a patrol of ten men, was scouting to the north. Cahill was a competent officer, but he had completely lost touch with Kelsey's band. After the brief skirmish in the valley of the Beaver they had vanished like smoke.

Kelsey's men were woodsmen, hardly inferior, many of them, to the Carson type of mountain man, and when they wanted to vanish, they did so simply and effectively. The band had, like Indians, scattered in as many directions as there were men. There was not one trail, there were forty or more. They crisscrossed and circled, and merged with old trails or new. They fell in with the tracks of Devereaux's own command; then they were gone, and somehow there was nothing.

Cahill, who had served much of his frontier time in the states along the Mexican border, found it different here. There pursuit was simpler, even if difficult. There the Apache could make his trail hard to find, but the Indian needed waterholes; and with knowledge of waterholes one stood a chance, at least.

Here, there was water everywhere. The trees hid movement, the canyons offered ready places of concealment, and hiding was no longer a problem. But sooner or later they must move, and in moving they must leave a trail. Cahill scouted the country with care and caution. He knew the manner of men they faced, and knew that there was small chance of trapping them. Yet there was a chance that they might come upon them suddenly, or catch them in camp. He nooned in Omena Meadow near Beaver Creek, then skirted Limestone Mountain to the head of Pass Creek. He found many tracks, and Turpenning said all were made by Kelsey's men, apparently in seeking for Brian and his party. Cahill could go little further with the time allowed, and he called Turpenning again. "Take Webster and ride north," he said;

"scout the country and join us at the head of Sioux Pass."

When Turpenning had' gone he moved the patrol west, scattering his men to look for sign, and approaching the pass in a wide-flung skirmish line. They found nothing. Resting at the head of Sioux Pass he was joined by Turpenning.

"He's got a spare horse, sir,"

Turpenning said, "and somebody or something over the saddle." What he had found were the bodies of West and Dorsey. Turpenning squatted on his heels alongside the fire. "Sign reads plain enough.

West and Dorsey rode together with a packhoss.

Looks as if West had the payroll and was started back. Then Dorsey evidently shot him . . . leastways that's the way it reads.

"Brian-that big gray of his is easy to spot-found West, then he went after Dorsey and fetched up with him. Dorsey came out the short end of the horn. Brian went off to the north with the packhoss"

"We'll bury them here," Devereaux said and he detailed a burial party, then went back to Turpenning, who sat by the fire. For a moment Cahill stared into the flames. He knew that such men as Turpenning, who were skilled trackers, often read more from intuition than from what sign there was. "What do you think, Turp?" he asked.

The Tennessean hesitated, then shrugged.

"Kelsey would know about the passes. He would have men watching them. Sure as shootin' he'll be waitin' when Lieutenant Brian comes out of the mountains-an' he's got to come out. He hasn't much grub along, an' he has two women with him, an' just two men left. He'll come out of those hills at one of the passes north of here . . . Sweetwater Gap, most likely. A man doesn't have all that much choice. And he'll run into Kelsey.

"From there you got to guess. It depends on who sees who first, and what kind of a spot they're in when it happens. Brian's goin' to have to be cunnin'.

He can't outrun them. The Kelsey outfit have some of the best horseflesh I ever seen, and there's a-plenty of them. He's got two things Kelsey wants. The women and the money."

Cahill considered a moment, and then called another trooper. He scratched out a brief message to Major Devereaux.

Found bodies of West and Dorsey. Proceeding through Sioux Pass. Will camp on Little Sweetwater near point of trees.

Cahill There were tracks in Sioux Pass, the tracks of strange horses . . . Kelsey men, for the tracks were fresh.

Cahill and his patrol made camp in the point of trees near the Little Sweetwater in a driving rain. Hastily they threw up shelters and built fires under cover of the trees. At that moment they were less than ten miles from the cave that sheltered Mary Devereaux and the others. Cahill walked out in the rain and stood under the last of the trees with Webster. "After they eat I'll send two men out, Web, but keep a sharp eye out. They'll come south, I am sure of that, and they will hold close to the edge of the mountains."

"I think so, sir."

Cahill looked again into the slanting rain.

Brian was out there somewhere with two men and two women and the payroll.

"I hope he makes out, sir."

Cahill nodded. "I do, too. If anyone can, he can."

"I know Kelsey, sir. He's a devil.

He raided my brother's farm back in the Ozarks. Stripped it, and then turned in his saddle and shot my brother. With his wife looking on. He was doing nothing . . . just standing." "I've heard such things about him."

He walked back to the fires, shivering as he extended his hands to the warmth. He could smell the buffalo meat broiling over the flames.

Ten Brian went down the mountain by a roundabout route and scouted the camp. Only eight men remained in camp, with Kelsey himself. There were ten horses, which meant that either two men were on guard somewhere near, or the spare horses were pack horses, one for the gold, the other for supplies.

The rain still fell, and Ten studied the layout, trying to guess where the gold might be. To attempt to take it from so many men was out of the question. He would have the problem of escape.

And where was Ironhide?

As he watched, Reuben Kelsey emerged from the lean-to carrying a saddle. The rain had eased a little, and he took his time walking to the horses, picketed only a few yards from where Ten Brian crouched in the brush near a pine tree.

He wiped water from the back of a big black horse, and then adjusted the blanket.

"I'd like to talk to Ten Brian," he said in a casual, offhand tone of voice, just loud enough for Brian to hear. "Be a mighty nice thing if he was around, and within bearin'."

He stooped and picked up the saddle, and then he added, "We could make us a deal."

He tightened the girth, and stood for a moment with his hands on the saddle. "Mighty nice in San Francisco about now. A place to be. Lots of women there, a man could take his pick . . . if he had money, that is. And we could have money, the two of us."

Brian waited, listening. Was Kelsey so sure that he was within hearing? Was he really making him an offer, or was it a trap to get him to reveal himself.

"If you can hear me, Brian speak up."

Reaching down, Ten Brian picked up a small stone and tossed it in a high are so that it would fall without revealing where it came from. The stone fell, and Kelsey chuckled. "Now I might have knowed you'd pull somethin' like that. Anyway, it tells me what I want to know. We got to talk, Ten, just like old times."

Gun in hand, Ten Brian said, "You want to surrender, Reub? Is that it?" "Surrender?

Me? No, I'm offerin' you a chance to cut loose from them sodger boys and live it high out "Frisco way. With that money we can do it." "Reub, you know we've got you. We know you're out here now, so the army will never let up. Major Devereaux is not far away, and we can move in on you."

He chuckled again. "Can you now? I had me a run-in with your Major man a night or two ago and he come off second-best. He's got him some green hands there. My boys are all seasoned-tough lads."

He glanced over his shoulder toward the shelter.

"But that gold now? Just you an" me?"

"And then just you?"

Kelsey laughed. "Damn it, no! Anybody else, maybe, but not you. After all, you an' me, were partners. We come out of the rough country together, you an' me!"

"That was a long time ago. I'll tell you what.

You turn the payroll over to me and I'll see that you get a running start."

Kelsey was silent for a few minutes and then he said, "Ten, where you been all these years? I missed you around."

"Africa, China . . . a lot of places.

Fighting mostly."

"No foolin'? I used to think about them places, but I never got further east than Knoxville."

He was leaning on his saddle. Brian remained hidden in the brush, but he knew that Kelsey had him located within inches. His eyes strayed toward the lean-to. Soon somebody would be coming to see what had become of Kelsey. "Surrender now, hand over the gold, Reub, and I'll do all I can to get you a pardon. You can start fresh."