Skeleton Lode (20 page)

“I’m Cass Bowdre. That’s Joe Dimler, Zondo Carp, and Pod Osteen to my right. At my left is Os Ellerton, Eldon Sandoval, and Mose Fowler. Now, who the hell are you?”

“Gary Davis. R. J. Bollinger leadin’ the hoss. The Mex pair is Yavapai and Sanchez. They claim to be familiar with these mountains.”

“You have pick a bad camp, Señor,” said Yavapai, looking sadly at Bowdre, “and you be lucky losing only your horses. Already the mountain have take five people, and they no return.”

“Hell, we lost more’n our hosses,” Pod Osteen said. “Some coyote-footed varmint come in that cave an’ took
our packs while we was sleepin’. We got no grub. Not even any coffee for breakfast.”

“Lawd God,” Mose groaned, “I knowed de spirits was in that mountain.”

“We got a pack mule and grub at our camp,” said Davis affably, “and it ain’t too far to walk. I reckon we can talk there. We got one extra hoss, but it’ll be tricky as hell comin’ up with six more.”

“Damn right it will,” Bollinger said, “and you won’t find ’em in town. Me and Rust only needed five, and a mule. We barely found ’em, and when we did, we paid three prices for ’em.”

“You come lookin’ for us,” said Bowdre, “leavin’ your pack mule and grub in camp? That don’t strike me as bein’ too smart, seein’ as how you’ve been cleaned out by Injuns before.”

“The camp be close,” Yavapai said, “and it not be dark.”

But an unpleasant surprise awaited them. When they reached camp, they found their packs, their food, and the mule gone.

Several of Cass Bowdre’s men looked at Gary Davis and his companions in disgust, but they weren’t quite in a position to laugh, because at least Davis and his men were mounted. But grub-wise, they were all in the same sorry position.

“By God,” said Zondo Carp, “I never seen such …”

“Knock it off, Zondo,” growled Bowdre. “The truth is, we’ve all come off like damn fools, allowin’ ourselves to be stole from like a bunch of shorthorns. Now we’re needin’ hosses and grub, and us chawin’ on one another ain’t goin’ to change that. Since there’s no hosses to be had in that little town we just come from, that means we got to try another town. Davis, if you’ll let me ride that extra hoss, you and me can go hoss hunting.”

“It’s you that’s needin’ horses,” said Davis. “Sheriff Wheaton’s got nothin’ on us. We can buy all the grub we need, close by.”

“I reckon you can,” Bowdre said, turning his hard eyes
on Davis, “and while you’re there, buy yourself some help to fight the Apaches.”

The implication was clear enough, and Davis shifted his eyes to Bollinger, then to Yavapai and Sanchez. One wrong move, and Gary Davis would become an outcast, scorned by his companions, rejected by these hard-case newcomers. Swallowing hard, he turned to Cass Bowdre.

“Yeah,” he said, “you can ride the extra horse. What town you got in mind?”

“Florence,” said Bowdre. “It’s thirty miles south. We rode through it on our way in. If we can’t find six hosses there, we’ll ride northeast to Globe. We’ll need a pack mule, too.”

Davis nodded, holding his temper and biting his tongue. Bowdre had pressed his advantage, making it clear he planned the continued use of the horse that Barry Rust had ridden. Davis consoled himself with the thought that this miserable alliance was, at worst, only temporary. It would end if and when they found the gold, and then he would pay off this hardcase bunch with a different metal—lead.

“Let’s ride, then,” Bowdre said.

Taking the lead rope from Bollinger, Bowdre mounted the horse and rode out, saying nothing to his men. Gary Davis followed. Bowdre’s six men stared at Bollinger and the pair of Mexicans. It was to the latter that Pod Osteen spoke.

“So you
Mejicanos
know these Superstitions.”

“Si, Señor,” said Sanchez, “and we have learn to respect them.”

“We got the whole day, likely, with nothin’ to do but wait,” Osteen said. “I’m of a mind to light me a pine knot, go back to that cave, and look for our packs. Who’s got the sand to go with me?”

“Lawd God,” bawled Mose Fowler, “it don’t be me!”

“Go,” said Yavapai grimly, “and you no come back forever.”

“Per’ap you see
El Diablo pronto
,” Sanchez said.

“My God,” said Osteen, “I never seen so many growed men that was jumpy as old squaws. What about the rest of you? Joe? Zondo? Os? Eldon?”

“We know two men went down that tunnel and never come out,” Bollinger said. “I’d say there must be some deep holes and drop-offs in there, deep enough to swallow a man if he don’t know his way around. I can match your sand any day, bucko, but I ain’t a damn fool.”

“Well,” said Zondo, “that makes sense to me. I ain’t a coward, but I’ve seen stacked decks before. If you know you’re goin’ to be throwed at the first jump and then stomped, what’s the use in mountin’ up?”

“If you’re of a mind to look around,” said Bollinger, “climb up to the top of that mountain, the one with the cave up there at the foot. There’s a pair of hombres— Wells and Holt—who’s got an edge on all of us. Somewhere on top of that mountain, they’re hidin’ out, and they got an old Injun with ’em. He used to ride with Logan, the old man who made the gold strike. The three of ’em snuck out at night, rode up there ahead of us, and we ain’t seen ’em since.”

“They got horses, I reckon,” said Osteen.

“Yeah,” Bollinger said. “Horses and a pair of mules.”

“Stumblin’ around in a dark hole is one thing,” said Three-Fingered Joe, “but on top of a mountain, and daylight, that’s another. I’ll go along.”

“Me too,” Zondo said. “Beats standin’ around waitin’.”

“Come on, then,” said Pod Osteen. “Os, you and Eldon goin’?”

“No point in it,” Sandoval said. “There’s three of you, and three of them, includin’ the old Injun. Hell, I ain’t climbin’ that mountain on an empty belly.”

“That’s how I feel about it too,” said Ellerton. “Besides, Cass might not like it, us wanderin’ around up there. The Apaches done took everything but our scalps, and if we split up, we’re even riskin’ that.”

“Cass ain’t my daddy,” Osteen spat, “so I don’t have to jump ever’ time he hollers froggy. Any of you hombres
that are afraid to stay here, then come along with Joe, Zondo, and me.”

Nobody else chose to go, and the trio set out on foot back toward the fateful canyon where six men had died at the hands of the Apaches. They had no trouble finding the break in the rim where Davis and his companions had descended behind the mob of gold seekers from town.

Breakfast was over, but Dallas had made another pot of coffee.

“There’s enough for another week,” he said. “Then we either sneak into town for a sack of beans or we give up this search for the mine.”

“I reckon Hoss would be almighty put out with you,” Arlo said, “if he knew you was ready to give up half a gold mine for a sack of coffee beans. But a lot can happen in a week. After all that time in the dark, I got a hankerin’ to see the sun. Kelsey, are you well enough rested to go along? We might follow the east rim a ways and see if we can sight Davis and his men.”

“Let me buckle on my pistol,” said Kelsey. “I’m going to start wearing it again.”

The two left the camp, waiting a while before making their final exit and climbing to the top of the western rim. Seeing nobody, they continued, pausing at the top of the mountain to catch their wind. Suddenly the girl stood on tiptoe, put her arms around Arlo’s neck, and kissed him long and hard. When she drew away, he pulled her to him for a repeat performance.

“I just realized I’m happy,” she said, “and I used to wonder if I ever would be again, especially after Daddy was gone. When he was alive, and when Uncle Henry would come, those were the best times. First we lost Daddy, and then Uncle Henry. You and Dallas were just his cowboy friends, and I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. You’re the first man I ever kissed, except for Daddy and Uncle Henry.”

“I’m glad,” said Arlo, “and I’d like to keep it that way.
At first I couldn’t tell you and Kelly apart, but I can now. How am I doing that?”

“I don’t know,” Kelsey laughed, “unless it’s because Kelly’s got a little of Mother’s perverse nature about her. Mostly we’re like our daddy, and as Mother drew away from him, she seemed to care less and less for us. Kelly and me started to feel like … like … oh, God, like orphans. I’d forgotten what it was like to laugh, to be happy, to … to care about someone. I’d live here in these mountains until I’m eighteen, if there’s no other way. But what’s going to happen to Kelly … and me … when we leave here?”

“Wal,” said Arlo in his best drawl, “Ah cain’t speak for Dallas, but Ah aim to take you whar other hombres cain’t git to you. That is, ’less you got some objection.”

“Looking back,” she said, “I can’t remember a time when I was so happy. I’d be satisfied to just forget the mine, but I feel like we owe it to Uncle Henry to follow whatever trail he left for us. When we’ve done that, ask anything of me you want. I promise not to disappoint you.”

“Thank you,” said Arlo. “Now what do you think about Kelly and Dallas?”

“When she taunts him,” she laughed, “I like the way he gives as good as he gets. I think that, before we slip back into camp, we’d better throw a stone in ahead of us to let them know we’re coming.”

They walked all the way across the east rim, until they could see into the farthest end of the canyon, but not to the very foot of the mountain. When they were close enough to see the three men who were two-thirds of the way up the wall, the strangers had already spotted them!

“Come on,” Arlo said. “Run!”

They had a small advantage, for Joe, Pod, and Zondo were winded from their climb and still were some distance from the top.

“We can’t get back to our camp without them seeing us!” Kelsey cried.

“We’ll have to work our way down the mountain and return through it,” Arlo said.

The three men from Cass Bowdre’s bunch reached the top of the mountain, and while they were unable to see their quarry, they ran along the mountain rim toward the south. There were few places to hide.

“We get close enough,” Pod Osteen grunted, “put a slug in one or both of ’em. That should force ’em back into their camp, and we can see where it is.”

Arlo and Kelsey were on their knees behind an up-thrust of stone. When they saw the trio coming, Arlo fired twice, kicking up dust at their feet and forcing them to hesitate.

“Come on!” said Arlo. “If we can work our way all the way around the rim without them getting wise, we can slip down the mountain where they came up. That’ll put us near the mouth of the cavern. We’ll have to make it through the passage without a light, but that’s better than a running gunfight in the open.”

Arlo and Kelsey made it as far as the south rim, taking advantage of the little cover there was, before the trio caught sight of them again. There was a rattle of gunfire, and lead sang over their heads like angry bees. Swiftly they made their way to the west rim, finding sanctuary behind an occasional stone abutment. One of the pursuing men tried to cut across the wide-open plateau, but Arlo shot off his hat and burned a second slug along his thigh. He fell, rolling behind a little rise, and his companions paused. Arlo and Kelsey ran on, Arlo reloading his gun as they went.

“Gunfire!” Dallas said. “Somebody’s discovered Arlo and Kelsey!”

“Oh, Lord!” said Kelly. “Let’s go help them!”

“We can’t,” Dallas said, “without givin’ away our camp. Whoever started this ruckus is tryin’ to drive Arlo and Kelsey into a hole, figurin’ to find our camp by forcin’ them back into it. We go runnin’ out there, and we’ll only end up with our own tails in a crack, without helpin’ them. As well as I know Arlo, he won’t lead ’em here. He’ll try to work his way down the mountain and come in through the passage, but he won’t have a light. Come on—we’ll take some pine torches and meet them in the passage.”

“How can we know they’ll come in that way?”

“They have no choice,” Dallas said. “There’s not enough cover on the top of this mountain to shelter a toad. They can dodge from stone to stone for temporary
cover, but if there’s more than one man after them, they’ll have to keep moving. Their only chance is to make it down the mountain and then return through the passages.”

Kelsey, in the lead, drew her Colt.

“No,” said Arlo, “save it. This is no place to make a stand. Let me keep them away from us, if I can. Keep moving.”

They paused behind the cover of boulders, breathing hard. The only real cover their pursuers had was what Arlo and Kelsey had already used.

“Sooner or later,” Arlo said, “they’ll try to rush us as we move out from cover. Once we’ve gotten far enough along the west rim, we’re going to cut across the plateau to that steep trail down the east rim. When I tell you to go, run for it. I’ll try to hold them off until you’re over the edge. Then I want you to pull that Colt and give ’em hell. Space your shots, and try to lay down enough fire to cover me, so I can join you.”

Kelsey moved ahead, and soon they were near enough to cut over the west rim to their hidden camp. But they dared not. Almost straight across the mountaintop was the steep pass that led into the canyon and the safety of the passage within the mountain.