The Railroad War (25 page)

Blaine Abel posted guards out of rifle range around the saloon and the rooming house, to keep the hired guns confined to the buildings. The gunmen fired a warning shot or two at the sentries, but made no real effort to break out.

“They're waiting for dark,” Captain Tinker said during one of the pauses during the job of putting the cannon in shape. “They might be able to break out, too, if we don't stop them first.”

“We'll be ready in another two hours, Captain,” Ki said. “But ever since Jessie got this idea, I've been wondering where we're going to find a cannoneer.”

“You're looking at him, Ki,” Tinker replied. “I was a right fair ship's gunner's mate before I got my master mariner's certificate. It's been many a year, but I don't think I've forgotten anything.”

News of what was happening had spread quickly through the valley, and the square was crowded when the willing volunteers rolled the little brass cannon into the position the Captain had chosen. The sun was noontime high. The polished barrel of the cannon tossed back its rays as Captain Tinker propped himself up on his cane and leaned over to sight the target.

If the cartel's hired gunmen had noticed the activity in the street beyond the saloon, they had not tried to interfere. When he was sure that his elevation was correct, the captain pushed himself erect and nodded to Blaine Abel.

“We'll give them one chance to throw out their guns and come out and surrender,” he told Abel. “If they don‘t, you scoot back out of range, and I'll touch her off.”

“Be sure to tell Prosser that his boss is dead,” Jessie reminded Abel. “He won't believe you, but tell him anyhow.”

Abel nodded. He took a fresh white handkerchief from his pocket and began waving it as he walked toward the saloon. Karl Prosser came out on the veranda, followed by a half-dozen of the gunmen. They carried rifles, and held them ready as they bunched up behind him.

Abel stopped and called out, “Prosser, we're giving you and your men one chance to surrender. Your boss in Virginia City is dead. The railroad's dead too. Cut your losses and give up!”

“Talk's cheap, Abel!” Prosser replied. “You think I'm fool enough to swallow your lying bullshit, but you're wrong! If you want us out, come and get us!”

“One chance is all you get, Prosser!” Abel warned.

“I'll tell you again,” Prosser retorted. “Come in and get us, if you've got the guts!”

For a full minute, a minute that seemed an hour, the two stared at one another. Jessie and Ki, standing beside Captain Tinker at the cannon, exchanged looks as Abel finally turned away and began walking back down the sunbathed street.

Jessie said, “That's about what we expected, Captain. We gave them their chance. It's up to you and the cannon, now.”

The Captain nodded. “I'm ready, Jessie. Soon as Blaine's out of rifle range, I'll touch it off.”

When the cannon was finally fired, its report was dis appointingly flat. It sounded like a big firecracker, but the ball it lofted to the gunmen's refuge landed true. It crashed into the front of the saloon just above the awning, and even in the square, the noise of wood cracking and splintering was impressive.

A ragged volley of rifle shots from the rooming house rang out from the men holed up there, but the cannon was well beyond rifle range. The rifle slugs raised dust from the street, but had no other effect.

“You're aiming for the rooming house now?” Jessie asked as Ki and Jed rushed up to shift the cannon in line with Captain Tinker's leveled cane.

“I'll put a ball into it dead amidships,” the old man answered, bending to adjust the gun's leveling screw.

If the effects of the first cannonball had been impressive, those of the second were even more so. The shot tore into the center of the tall building, and almost at once the roof began to sag. Another ball into the saloon brought the gunmen pouring out like ants, their hands raised. Blaine Abel and his deputies, their rifles leveled, went to meet them.

“I don't think you'll need to fire again, Captain,” Jessie said as they watched the Hidden Valley men disarming the cartel thugs and binding their wrists.

“I guess it's just as well, Jessie,” the Captain replied. “Look here.” He pointed to the cannon's breech. A wide crack ran along the top of the barrel from the touchhole almost to the muzzle. “Looks like Fremont's cannon's let off its last ball.”

“It won the railroad war for us, though,” Jessie said. She smiled as she turned to Ki. “And we can depend on the Captain to do whatever else is needed. Ki, as long as we're so close to the stagecoach station, why don't we walk down there and find out when we can take the next stage that will get us started back to the Circle Star?”

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