Ralph Compton Sixguns and Double Eagles (32 page)

“I think Diaz was lying,” said Silver. “That was part of his crew that came after you in the boat, and I'm convinced they were under orders from Diaz. We should find Belton and Wilks there, at least, but we'll still need a U.S. marshal with us. Wait for me here, while I go after him.”

“There are horses next to the naval station,” Wes said. “I aim to see if they'll loan me one, so I can go after our horses.”

“Go ahead,” said Silver, “but be here when I return.”

Silver rode out, and Wes, borrowing a horse belonging to one of Captain Stevens' crew, soon followed. El Lobo remained behind, his eyes on the distant bay.

“Densmore was here all night,” Marshal Anderson said when Silver stalked into the office, “so I sent him home. We had no idea how long you'd be gone, and I could ill afford to leave the office unmanned and locked. What did you accomplish?”

“We did what we set out to do,” said Silver grimly. “I'm here to ask you to ride with me to finish the job. Once we gain entry to that place, I can promise you all the proof necessary to justify our actions. Come on, while there's still time.”

“I'll have to leave Blake here,” Anderson said, “but Condon can ride with us.”

“We won't need him,” said Silver.

When Silver and Anderson reached the naval station, Wes had returned with his and El Lobo's mounts. Each had a Winchester in the saddle boot. The four men rode along the bay, soon reaching the distant pier where Silver had so recently hoisted Wes and El Lobo to safety. As they neared the warehouse, Silver reined up. Anderson, Wes, and El Lobo reined up beside him.

“We'll circle wide, well out of rifle range, and come in behind the place,” Silver said. “Marshal, I'll want you to identify yourself and demand entry.”

Well beyond the warehouse, they rode down a side street and came in well beyond the drainage ditch. Nearby was a buckboard, and next to it a team of picketed horses.

“Maybe they've got the word and are gettin' ready to leave,” said Wes.

“They're not goin' anywhere,” Silver said. “Nowhere of their own choosing, anyway.”

When Silver judged they were close enough, he pointed to Buford Anderson.

“Belton,” Anderson shouted, “open up. This is U.S. Marshal Buford Anderson. I have reason to believe you're engaged in activities detrimental to the well-being of the United States.”

“You'll need more than that,” shouted Belton in reply.

“Give him one more chance,” Silver said. “Then leave it to me.”

“Open up,” shouted Anderson. “I'm warning you.”

“Go to hell,” Belton responded. “You're covered, and we'll shoot.”

“Stand back,” said Silver. “I'm about to equalize things.”

From his saddlebag he took out two sticks of capped and fused dynamite. Lighting both fuses, he flung the explosives as hard as he could, and they bounced up against the wall, near the double doors. They exploded with a thunder that shook the earth, bringing down most of the wall and part of the roof.

“We have more,” Silver shouted, “unless you come out of there with your hands up.”

Two men stumbled out of the wreckage, covered with dust.

“That's Belton and Wilks,” said Wes, “but there's more of them somewhere.”

“Where are the others?” Silver asked.

“There are no others,” said Belton.

“Wes,” Silver said, “you and El Lobo get these
hombres
into that wagon and bind them hand and foot. Marshal Anderson and me are goin' in.”

“They took our Colts,” said Wes. “While you're in there, look for them.”

“We will,” Silver said, “or you can come in when the marshal and me have finished our duties.”

Silver and Anderson entered through a door that had been ripped loose. They wasted no time in the offices, but lighted a lantern and began going through the rest of the place.

“I believe this is what we're looking for,” said Silver, trying a door and finding that it was locked. Drawing his Colt, he blasted away the lock.

Within the room was a heavy-duty charcoal stove, sacks of charcoal, and a tall vertical rack which held molds. Silver removed one and presented it to Buford Anderson. He had no trouble identifying it. Returning it to the rack, he withdrew another, studying it. Silver had raised the lid on a heavy wooden chest, and he beckoned to Anderson.

“Lord Amighty,” Anderson said, “there must be a million in double eagles.”

“Counterfeit double eagles, worth only a few cents each,” said Silver. “Here, take one and scrape the surface with your knife.”

Anderson did so, revealing the base metal under the thin layer of gold. Taking another of the coins, he repeated the procedure, with the same result.

“Now,” said Silver, “you can see how this has been hurting the United States. These counterfeit coins were being substituted for newly minted ones, often within the United States mints. I'd gamble that those crates over there against the wall were unloaded from that Mex sailing ship, and that they contain necessary base metals for more counterfeiting. I want all this confiscated and held for evidence, and I want Belton and Wilks kept under guard until they can be taken East for trial. Will you have a problem with that?”

“No,” Anderson replied, “but I'll need some men here to watch over all this, until it can be hauled away.”

“I'll remain here until you can return with men and equipment,” said Silver. “Take the wagon with the captives and see that they're secured where nobody can get to them. Wes and El Lobo can ride with you. I must caution you against talking to the press. If you're approached by reporters, send them to me.”

Wes and El Lobo had the captives securely bound and in the wagon when Anderson and Silver returned. A dozen curious men had gathered beyond the drainage ditch and were staring.

“Wes,” Silver said, “I want you and El Lobo to ride with Marshal Anderson, taking Belton and Wilks with you. They're to be locked up securely where nobody can get to them. When that's been done, return here with the wagon. We have plenty of evidence that must be removed. I'll be here keeping watch.”

“You'll be filing formal charges against Belton and Wilks sometime today, won't you?” Marshal Anderson asked.

“Yes,” said Silver, “just as soon as you send some men to keep watch here. I want nobody—and I mean nobody—inside, until we've removed the necessary evidence.”

Anderson nodded. Wes and El Lobo had already hitched the team to the wagon, and to the rear of it Anderson tied his horse. He mounted the box, and with Wes and El Lobo riding beside him, drove away. Before they were out of sight, a pair of horsemen galloped along the road that led from the broad avenue paralleling the bay. Both were dressed in town clothes and they wasted no time. Dismounting, they approached Silver.

“I'm Simon Underwood,” said one of the newcomers angrily, “and I own this property. I aim to call the law on whoever's responsible for this.”

“The law knows all about it,” Silver said. “U.S. Marshal Buford Anderson will be here, probably within an hour. We had to blast our way in to make some arrests. You should be more careful who you rent to.”

“Just who are you?” the second newcomer demanded.

“I'm Bryan Silver, from Washington, office of the U.S. attorney general,” Silver said. “Who are you, and what business is it of yours?”

“I'm Larkin, with
The San Francisco Chronicle.
My business is reporting news, and an event such as this is newsworthy. Now I want to know what's happened here that's big enough to bring a federal man all the way from Washington.”
⁹

“Counterfeiting, which is a crime against the government of the United States,” said Silver. “Belton and Wilks—the men responsible—have been taken into custody. That's all I can tell you.”

“Then why are you still here?” Larkin demanded.

“To keep varmints such as you out of there until the evidence can be removed,” said Silver.

“As a member of the press, I'm entitled to see that evidence,” Larkin said angrily. “All I have is your word that it exists.”

“And that's all you're going to get,” said Silver. “If you want more than that, then be in Washington when the case goes to trial.”

“By God,” Larkin threatened, “I'm going to have a story. I'll crucify you.”

“Go ahead,” said Silver. “It's been tried by better men than you.”

The curious bystanders had begun working their way closer and heard the exchange between Silver and Larkin. One of the men shouted at Silver.

“Don't let that Larkin varmint scare you, mister. In his writin‘, he's always takin' the part of thieves an' killers. Don't nobody take him serious.”

Obviously it angered Larkin. Furious, he mounted his horse and rode away.

“I didn't know nothin' about what was goin' on in there,” Simon Underwood said. “You got to pay for damages.”

“You can file a claim through Marshal Anderson's office,” said Silver. “I can't promise you anything.”

Underwood, obviously unsatisfied, mounted his horse and rode away. Eventually Silver heard the clatter of a wagon. Marshal Anderson was returning, and besides Wes and El Lobo, there were four other riders following him.

“I brought enough men to take care of the loading,” Anderson said.

“
Bueno
,” said Silver. “The sooner you remove everything, the better. While you're doing that, I want to go back in there. We may have overlooked something.”

“Our Colts be in there,” El Lobo said.

“Yeah,” said Wes. “We're goin' with you.”

“You've earned that right,” Silver said. “Come on.”

They entered the shattered building, and immediately Wes and El Lobo headed for the office that had belonged to Otis Belton. In a cabinet behind Belton's desk, they found their gunbelts with the Colts intact. Silver had begun going through Belton's desk.

“Find anything in there?” Wes asked.

“Not much,” said Silver. “They're not the kind to keep written records. Here's a slip of paper with some names. Do the names Elias Hawk and Hobie Denbow mean anything to you?”

“Damn right they do,” Wes said. “If they're the same pair of varmints I'm thinking of, El Lobo and me was railroaded into leg irons, thanks to them.”

“Sí
,
”
said El Lobo. “We don't kill. We damn fools.”

“There's one more word,” Silver said. “Durango. Does that mean anything?”

“No,” said Wes. “Hawk's two-bit town was
Hawktown
, named after him, and it was in the bend of the Rio Grande, almost in New Mexico. Denbow was Hawk's crooked sheriff.”

“Well, it's something to keep in mind,” Silver said. “If we can keep Belton and Wilks alive and get them to talk, maybe we can hang the Dragon's hide up to dry, once and for all.”

Within an hour, Anderson and the four men he had brought with him had everything loaded in the wagon, including the four unopened crates that had been unloaded from the Mexican ship. Silver, Wes, and El Lobo followed the wagon to the federal courthouse.

“All this stuff is goin' in the basement,” said Anderson. “There's double-locked doors, no windows, and around-the-clock guards.”

“Bueno,”
Silver said, “but not just for the evidence. That's the kind of security we need for Belton and Wilks, until I can get them on their way to Washington.”

Anderson laughed. “What kinda shorthorn you think I am, Silver? There's four cells in this same basement, and they're maximum security. Belton and Wilks was put in there when I brought ‘em in. I've never lost a prisoner.”

“That makes me feel considerably better,” said Silver. “The most effective way to keep a man from talking is a couple of hunks of lead on a dark night.”

“You think there's more involved than the pair of varmints we rounded up?” Anderson asked.

“You never can tell,” said Silver cautiously.

“I reckon not,” Anderson agreed. “How long before you take ‘em off my hands?”

“Maybe a week,” said Silver. “They'll be going East on the Union Pacific. Washington will send a private coach for them. I'm requesting four guards, and for good measure, I'll be going along myself.”

Once the wagonload of evidence was secure, Wes and El Lobo followed Silver back to Sheriff Tom Rigger's office.

“He loaned me a Winchester,” Silver said. “He's one of the old-time Texans and once was a ranger.”

Rigger shook their hands and seemed glad to see them.

“I brought your Winchester back,” said Silver. “Since I'll be here another week, we can maybe catch up on those years since you left Texas.”

“I'd like that,” Rigger said. “Why don't all of you join me for supper tonight? I reckon the steak here can't measure up to Texas, but it ain't half bad, once you get used to it.”

“Now,” said Silver after they had left Rigger's office, “I must file a report with Washington and requisition a private coach with guards.”

“That gold we recovered needs to be turned over to somebody,” Wes said. “Captain Stevens seemed a mite nervous, taking charge of it.”

“I thought so too,” said Silver. “I'll see to having it transferred to that federal courthouse that Buford Anderson has so well secured.”

“You send to Washington?” El Lobo asked.

“No,” said Silver. “That's going to become the responsibility of the U.S. mint, here in San Francisco.”