Under the Sweetwater Rim (1971) (14 page)

"With what? I don't need a fresh start, just a running start. Can't you just see me in "Frisco with all that money?" Ten Brian was thinking of one thing only. He wanted to get the gold and get back to Mary, and then to the post. The rain had eased, and any minute now, some of the men would appear.

"You don't stand much of a chance of getting away with that gold," he said. "Your boys will be watching, and expecting a split."

"I'll take care of that." Kelsey paused a moment. "You got a gun on me?" "Of course. From the beginning."

"Ain't changed much, have you? You always was a cautious one." A man had come outside and was looking toward Kelsey. He picked up a pack saddle and went to a horse. "Stick around,"

Kelsey said to Brian, lowvoiced. "We'll work something out"

Then he called out, "Chet? You want to lend me a hand?" The man came over. "What's the idea?

Are we gettin" out of here?" "Just in case,"

Kelsey said, and as the man bent over to pick up the second pack saddle, Kelsey laid the barrel of his pistol alongside his head. The man hit the ground with a thump.

"One less," Kelsey commented. "Come and get him."

Brian remained where he was. "He's yours.

You take care of him." Coolly, after a quick glance toward the lean-to, Kelsey took the man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the brush. Then with rawhide from his saddlebag he trussed him neatly, and gagged him. Going back, he proceeded to finish the saddling of the pack horses.

Ten Brian watched warily. Reuben Kelsey had nerve, but he would take no unnecessary risks. Brian did not trust him for one minute, knowing that he would kill him without any qualms when the need arrived. He felt that for the time being Kelsey planned to use him-how he could not guess. The two of them stood a better chance of escaping with the gold than did either one alone. Kelsey knew this.

When the saddling was completed he said, "Stick around. I'll be needin' you."

Kelsey walked back to the lean-to and when he emerged again he carried a sack of gold. Dropping it near the horses, he returned for the other sack.

Heavy as they were, Brian noted that Kelsey carried them with ease, as he had handled the unconscious man earlier.

"Are they letting you get away with it?" Brian asked. Kelsey grinned. "Playin' cards," he said, "an' they don't worry much.

We been together quite a spell."

Methodically, he loaded the gold on the pack horse, then went back for the supplies.

Brian measured the distance to the horses. A quick run, a leap into the saddle, but it could not be that simple. Reuben Kelsey never took a chance on anybody. There was a catch to it somehow.

Kelsey came out of the lean-to carrying two packs, one in each hand but there was a pistol in his waistband as well as one in a holster at his belt, and undoubtedly he had others.

He grinned as he neared the horses. "Had your chance, Ten. Wonder you didn't take it."

Brian chuckled. "I figured you had an edge, although I didn't know how." "Didn't tighten my cinch," Kelsey explained cheerfully. "If you'd jumped into the saddle you'd have fallen right off, and you'd never get that cinch tightened and mount up and git away before I had you in my sights." "Anyway,"

Brian said, "I'm considering your idea.

"Frisco does sound appetizing."

"We'd have us a time," Kelsey agreed. "It ain't no fun, a man by hisself. You an" me, we could take that town apart. Maybe even buy ourselves a place on the Barbary Coast somewhere.

That's a whole sight easier than riding day in an' day out. We could just set, sell whiskey, and let the money come rolland in." He winked. "I hear there's money in shanghaiing sailors for them ships, too."

Where was Ironhide?

There was no sign of the Cherokee. No sound that might come from him, no evidence that he had been around the camp at all. The horses were loaded tow, the grub was packed, the gold was packed.

Kelsey was just fiddling with the packs, making sure they would ride easy.

"You got you a horse?"

"No."

"I'll saddle the sorrel." Kelsey paused, his hand on one pack, his left hand. "You comin' with me?"

Brian eased himself to his feet, making no sound. He lifted one foot and took a step, putting it down gently. Kelsey had had him located within inches, he was sure of that, so he moved . . . ever so gently lifting the other foot.

"I said, "Are you comin' with me?""

Brian hesitated, uncertain as to his next move. The gold was right there in front of him, packed and ready on a horse. A saddled horse was there too. "I take it I've wasted my breath," Kelsey said calmly. "Well, it's your grave you're diggin :"

He turned suddenly, cupping his mouth with his hands.

"Duck! Reynoldsl Come a-runnin"1"

Turning sharply, he let go with two fast shots at Brian's former position, ran a step and fired again as the men came boiling from the shelter. "Up the slope. It's Brian. Get himl"

The men let fly with a quick volley of shots, most of which were scattered along the slope. It was the last thing Brian expected, but instinctively he did the right thing. He turned sharply and ran along the slope but not up it. With one mind the men charged into the brush, yelling. Picking up a rock, Brian hurled it far up the slope. It fell, and there was a shot, then another.

Brian looked back. Kelsey was in the saddle, holding the lead ropes on the two pack horses. He was riding awayl Stepping out of the brush, Brian lifted his rifle and took dead aim. At the same instant, Kelsey fired.

Brian felt a sharp blow on the skull; he staggered, and fell. . . he seemed to fall for a long time. When he hit the brush, he tumbled over and brought up on the ground with shocking force. That was the last he remembered.

The day passed slowly in the cave.

Mary Devereaux talked to Belle, helped rustle wood for the fire, and prepared food, but she could not keep herself from grim thoughts. Somewhere within a few miles of her the two men she loved most were in the gravest danger.

Schwartz was silent much of the time, but when he spoke he tried to reassure her. "The Lieutenant is a good man, a brave man. He will do nothing foolish. And wherever he is, you can be sure the Cherokee is not far away". Nonetheless, she was worried and frightened. When night came, Schwartz stood guard most of the night, but he awakened her just before daybreak, when he could no longer keep his eyes open.

She made up her mind then. If there was not some news by noon they would move out. True, Ten had told her to wait, but her father was not far away and she might be able to get to him. Anything was better, she thought, than waiting in the cave Schwartz did not agree. "Stay here," he warned her. "We can make no tracks here, no tracks for Kelsey's men to follow. He has many men, and they are all over the mountains, and they are evil men, like none you have ever met. We must wait."

Mary protested, but she finally gave in. They would wait one more night, and no more.

Belle too was worried, but she also advised caution. They kept the fire small, and they waited. Once, far off, they believed they heard gunfire.

Schwartz alone was calm, but he made frequent trips to the cave mouth to look about. The rain had ceased, but the clouds hung low. Water dripped from every tree. The sound of the water came up to them from the stream far below, but it was a sullen, muted sound, almost sinister, it seemed.

"Are you in love with him?" Belle asked the question suddenly. "I . . . I think so. I don't know."

"He's quite a man."

"My father doesn't approve, but you know that. He likes him as a man and as an officer, but not as a husband for me."

They were silent for a few minutes and then Belle spoke. "Do you think they have gone back? Your father, I mean. I know they were limited as to time." Just then Schwartz spoke. "Somebody is coming."

They drew back into the cave. Schwartz moved toward the entrance, and Mary also. They waited and listened. The horses' heads were up, ears pricked. Schwartz lifted his rifle. Mary whispered, "Don't shoot unless you must. They may come close without finding us."

For a long time then there was no sound. Mary's lips were dry, and one leg was cramped and she desperately wanted to move it, but she was afraid to make even the slightest sound. Then she heard a low murmur of voices. "Aw, you're havin' pipe dreams! I didn' see nothin', an' besides, there's no tracks. Nobody's come along here in years."

"Might have been a shadow, but I'd swear I saw somethin' down there just about sunup. Somethin' moved."

"Deer, maybe. There's a-plenty of them around.

Have a look if you're so minded" There was a pause and the same voice continued. "Anyway, where would they be? There's no place to hide."

A moment longer they stood talking, and then there came a far-off sound of firing. It was faint, but it was unmistakable.

"Shootin'," one of the men said, "back across the hill. Now what do' you suppose that is?"

"We'd better go back. We got a stake in that sixty thousand, you' know." They turned away and their footsteps receded, and then there was silence again.

"It's Ten!" Mary exclaimed. "I know it.

He's in trouble!" "There is nothing we can do,"

Belle said. "We must wait."

"We could help him"

"Ma'am," Schwartz said gently, "now he's got only himself to worry about, and maybe getting that payroll back. If you were over there he'd have to think about carin' for you, and that would most likely get himself killed. Believe me, ma'am, when it comes to guns a man had best have a mind for nothing but the other man and himself."

"He's right, Mary. You know he is," Belle said. "I do know it." She turned quickly.

"Schwartz, couldn't you go?" "I could go. The trouble is by the time I got where the fightin' is it would all be over, and I would have left my post. No, ma'am. My place is here with you"

"Then let's try to get to my father."

Schwartz looked at her thoughtfully. "Miss Devereaux, I understand how you feel, but it is a wide country out there, and finding your father would not be easy. However, we can try." He paused. "But you must remember that when we leave this place nobody will know where we are."

The thought had not occurred to her, but she brushed it aside. "In the morning, then?"

"In the morning," he said, resignedly.

Daybreak was a mere lightening of the sky, for the clouds still hung low. They saddled up, and after a small breakfast, Schwartz scouted the outside again.

His comprehension of their position was vague, but he assumed it to be somewhere on the southern or western flank of the Roaring Fork Mountains. The peak above them he believed to be Atlantic Peak, and thought that by striking east and keeping off the higher slopes they could reach Sioux Pass. He would, he decided, stay in the mountains, or at least in the foothills, for there was water there, and places of concealment might be found, with occasional high points to permit looking over the country. At the moment of leaving he said, "Remember this. We must talk very little if at all. Voices carry in these canyons."

Mounting up, he led them away from the cave and along the steep path, and then he chose a dim trail that followed a bench covered with thick clumps of aspen. They crossed occasional meadows with scattered spruce. He was not very skillful at covering a trail, but he tried to leave as little sign as possible and several times went back to kick the tallest grass erect. They were about nine thousand feet up, he thought, judging by the plant growth, and there was ample cover. By noon they had reached the headwaters of a creek that he assumed was the Little Sweetwater. Behind a clump of aspen, sheltered from the higher slopes by scattered spruce, they dismounted.

There was little breeze, and they found dry wood, so he built a small fire behind some rocks. These were frontier women with whom he rode, but they had been out now for several rough days and he had no idea how much they could take. The rest and the coffee would be good for them. While they drank coffee and rested in the sun that found a chink in the clouds, he climbed to a shoulder of the mountain. The view to the southwest was partly obscured by a butte, but he could see glimpses that showed him the flat country sweeping away toward the Green River. Nowhere did he see any life, any movement . . . except for an eagle that soared far above on easy wings.

To the north he could see a broad blue expanse that must be a lake. The largest lake in this region of which he had heard was Christina Lake, and he felt they must be near the pass. Sioux Pass was to the south, but Brian had several times mentioned another pass that he thought was snowed in, but from this vantage point he could see only scattered patches of snow. If he took the pass above Christina Lake he could avoid well-traveled Sioux Pass and the risks of meeting Kelsey's men.

Slowly he walked back down the mountain. He could see the horses grazing on the grass below him.

For some reason he thought of Germany. He paused, resting the butt of his rifle on the ground .... Would he ever see Germany again?

He looked down to where the horses grazed . . . but they were gonel He looked again . . . there was no sign of them, nor any sign of the women either.