Ralph Compton Train to Durango, page 9
“Bastardos,” El Lobo snarled. “I show them.”
“Why?” Molly asked. “Who could have done such a terrible thing? Someone’s trying to force Wes into the same kind of life Nathan tried so hard to escape. There’ll be gunmen coming from everywhere, forcing him to fight.”
“There’s already been one,” said Renita. “He was waiting for Wes when we left the store.”
“I didn’t hear about that,” Foster Hagerman said.
“Neither did Molly and me,” said Silver. “We were at the Dodge House.”
“Just a kid,” Wes said. “He left with a broken Colt and a bloody hand.”
“You should have killed him,” said Hagerman. “Now he’ll likely ambush you if he gets the chance.”
“I didn’t want to kill him,” Wes said. “Somehow he and others like him have to learn that how tall a man stands has nothing to do with how quick he can pull a gun.”
“Unfortunately, that’s the standard for measuring a man on the frontier,” said Silver. “The time is coming when we’ll become a nation of laws, and men can hang up their guns, but there’ll be a few more hard years. I have no doubt this story was planted in the newspaper by the very bunch of outlaws we’re after. It will suit their purpose if the town’s full of would-be gunslingers trying to force Wes into a gunfight.”
“I think you’ve come up with the answer,” Harley said. “While Wes is being forced to defend himself against some young coyote hungry for a reputation, what better time for a bushwhacker to gun him down?”
“We watch,” said El Lobo. “Kill.”
“Sí,” Tamara said.
“I’m obliged to all of you,” said Wes, “but this creates a whole new set of problems. I had hoped, by staying here a few days, we could force the Golden Dragon into the open. Now I suspect every damn pistol-packer west of the Mississippi will be comin’ here, looking to beat me with his fast draw. Like Harley says, it’s likely the reason for the story in the newspaper. I reckon I’ll have to go back to Denver. If I’m goin’ to become a target, I might as well lure out some of the varmints we’re after.”
“I’m not staying in Dodge while you go to Denver to be shot,” Renita said.
“I go with you, amigo,” said El Lobo.
“Sí,” Tamara said. “I go.”
“Nobody’s going to Denver just yet,” said Silver. “I’m satisfied Wes can defend himself against any gun-throwers looking for a reputation. Our chances of rooting out the Dragon in a city the size of Denver are slim. In Dodge, we have the edge. We’ll return to Denver when we have a reason to. Right now, we don’t.”
“It makes sense to me,” said Foster Hagerman. “Here, you have access to telegrams into and out of Dodge, and you have Harley and me keeping a watch on incoming trains. It won’t be easy for them, getting gunmen into town without them being seen.”
“That’s true,” Silver said, “but their killers won’t be coming on the train. Dodge isn’t more than fifty miles from Indian Territory, and it’s loaded with thieves and killers.”
“My God, yes,” said Foster Hagerman, “we’re overlooking the obvious. When Nathan was riding security for the railroad, he chased a gang of thieves into Indian Territory. They were almost the death of him.”19
“That explains why there were no telegrams sent to Dodge,” Harley said. “They’ll have a contact in Wichita or Kansas City.”
“Yes,” said Silver. “They’ll send a man from there into Indian Territory.”
“Killers,” Renita said. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll have to keep watch,” said Silver. “They’ll ride in, one or two at a time. In fact, some of them may pose as fast guns, looking for a fight with Wes.”
“If they come looking for me, it’s my fight,” Wes said.
“Not if we can identify them as killers hired by the Golden Dragon,” said Silver.
“That may not be possible if they ride in one at a time,” Wes said. “If they show up after dark, we won’t know where they’re from. I don’t like the way this is shapin’ up.”
“Neither do I,” said Silver, “but we came here with a plan. Since we don’t have anything better, we’re going to give this one a chance. I aim to talk to Sheriff Dumery. He needs to know of this story somebody planted in the Kansas City newspaper, and that Wes may be forced to defend himself at any time.”
“If he’s like most lawmen, he’ll suggest that I get out of town,” Wes said.
“I expect he’ll think of that,” said Silver, “but I can override him if I have to. I have a plan that will destroy their efforts to send hired killers after us from Indian Territory.”
“Indian Territory is a disgrace,” Foster Hagerman said. “Washington should long since have sent in soldiers to rid it of renegades and killers.”
“Precisely my thoughts,” said Silver. “How many shipments of gold has the railroad lost to renegades from the territory?”
“Entirely too many,” Hagerman said gloomily. “The most recent one was a twenty-five-thousand-dollar army payroll.”
“I tracked them all the way across the Cimarron,” said Harley. “When they rode into Indian Territory, the posse turned back, leaving me out-gunned twelve-to-one.”
“What does any of this have to do with your plan?” Wes asked Silver.
“Like I’ve said, we’ll have to keep watch for a while,” said Silver, “but I have an idea that may pull the fangs of Indian Territory for all time. It should also put a crimp in the Dragon’s tail by drying up their source of hired killers.”
“The West would be eternally grateful to you,” Hagerman said, “but hired killers can be brought in from Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, or Missouri.”
“I agree,” said Silver, “but as it now stands, they’re an hour away from losing themselves in Indian Territory. Without that sanctuary, a posse could ride them down.”
“Since we’re virtually certain that the Golden Dragon’s hired killers will be comin’ from Indian Territory,” Wes said, “tell us what you have in mind. What can you do, and what would you have El Lobo and me do?”
“We’ll need to buy some time,” said Silver. “That means there may be killers gunning for us as soon as tomorrow. Starting tonight, in four-hour watches, you, El Lobo, or me will be outside the Dodge House from dusk until dawn. Tomorrow, when the eastbound train arrives, I’ll have letters going to Washington. I will be requesting that a company of soldiers be deployed to Wichita and a second company to Dodge, for the express purpose of invading and cleaning up Indian Territory.”
“You can’t do that without the approval of Congress,” said Foster Hagerman.
“The president of the United States can,” Silver replied.
“Tarnation,” said Wes. “You can get through to the president?”
“I can,” Silver said. “President Grover Cleveland has few friends in Washington, and the Congress is hostile to his every move. He’s sorely in need of a popular issue that will appeal to the people. This bunch of thieves and killers in Indian Territory, with their constant plundering of railroad shipments and banks, might be exactly what he needs to show the country he’s a man with a mind of his own.”
“Bueno,” said El Lobo. “He sends soldados.”
“I always thought Congress had to approve the money for any kind of conflict,” Harley said. “Especially for the declaration of war, and that’s what it’ll be in Indian Territory.”
“They do,” said Silver, “but once the soldiers are in Wichita and Dodge, and their purpose for being there is known, there’s not a politician in Washington with guts enough to say no to the funds to continue the mission. As for planting stories in the newspapers, these Golden Dragon varmints are about to learn something. As soon as the president decides to deploy soldiers, there’ll be a news release sent to every major newspaper in the country.”
Harley laughed. “You play rough, Silver.”
“Sí,” El Lobo said. “Bueno.”
“It’ll be one hell of a hand if you can play it out to the finish,” said Wes.
“I aim to try,” Silver said. “It’s time we were getting back to the Dodge House. I’ll take the first four-hour watch. Harley, will you tell Sheriff Dumery I want to see him?”
“I’ll tell him,” said Harley, “and any time I’m in town, feel free to call on me.”
The friends parted company. When Silver and his party reached the Dodge House, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo unlocked the doors and entered their rooms first. Silver took his Winchester from a corner and jacked a shell into the chamber.
“Oh, do be careful,” Molly said.
“I aim to,” said Silver. “This is the easy part, makin’ them come to us.”
When Silver stepped outside, Wes and El Lobo were waiting for him.
“Palo will take the second watch, leavin’ me the third,” Wes said. “We’ll be sleeping light, with our guns handy.”
“Gracias,” said Silver. “I don’t look for any trouble before tomorrow night, but we’re in no position to risk it.”
Silver had been on watch only a few minutes when Sheriff Dumery arrived.
“You’re expecting trouble, I reckon,” Dumery said.
“We’re not inviting it,” said Silver, “but if it comes, we’re ready. Do you read the newspapers?”
“If you mean the latest one from Kansas City, I saw the story on Stone. What do you make of it?”
“Like you’ve been told, there’s a bunch of outlaws wantin’ us dead, and they’re not too picky about who does the killing,” Silver said. “I hope you’ll keep that in mind, and that if you chance to meet a gun-thrower looking for a reputation, you’ll encourage him to ride on.”
“I’ll do that,” said Dumery.
“A lawman’s inclined to frown on shooting, justifiable or not,” Silver said, “so I want you to keep one thing in mind. We won’t start anything, but we’ll defend ourselves. If we are shot at, we’ll shoot back.”
“I wouldn’t expect any man to do any less,” said Dumery. “Good luck.”
He rode away, and but for the comings and goings of Dodge House patrons, Silver saw nobody else until El Lobo relieved him. Silver knocked on the door, identified himself, and Molly let him in. She was fully dressed, except for her hat. The gunbelt with the Colt was buckled around her waist.
“You should have gone to bed,” said Silver.
“If there’s trouble, what good would I be to you in bed?”
“If there’s trouble, I don’t expect you to be slinging lead in the street,” Silver said. “The gun is for you to protect yourself when I’m not there.”
Silver leaned his Winchester up beside the bed, hung his hat and gunbelt on the bedpost, and pulled off his boots. Molly removed her gunbelt and boots.
“Go on to bed,” said Silver. “I have some letters to write.”
“I’ve spent too many nights in bed alone,” Molly said. “I’ll wait for you.”
• • •
Wichita, Kansas, March 30, 1885
Morton Tindall left the train at Wichita. Renting a horse at the livery, he rode south, toward Indian Territory. His saddlebags were heavy with double eagles.
Chapter 6
Washington, D.C., April 1, 1885
In the office of the treasury, Simpkins and Taylor were reading Bryan Silver’s letter for the second time.
“I hope there is some method to this madness,” Simpkins said, shaking his head. “I can see where the renegades hiding out in Indian Territory have become a problem, but I fail to see any connection between them and this Golden Dragon conspiracy.”
“Nor do I,” said Taylor, “but the attorney general’s office has the utmost confidence in Silver. Through his efforts, we have recovered millions in stolen gold in San Francisco.20 I am inclined to go along with any plan he proposes. God knows, we certainly do not have anything better.”
“I agree,” Simpkins replied. “If our position in this matter is questioned, I propose we back Silver and allow him to play out his hand.”
“So be it,” said Taylor.
Elsewhere in Washington, President Grover Cleveland had just read a lengthy proposal from Silver. He passed it to Willoughby, his trusted aide.
“Read it, Willoughby, and tell me how it strikes you.”
Willoughby read it twice and returned it.
“He strikes me as a man who’s not afraid to rock the boat, or to sink it, if need be,” Willoughby said. “Certainly he has an axe to grind, but no more so than you, sir.”
“Precisely my thoughts,” said Cleveland. “By God, it just might work, and if it does not, can my official position be any more precarious than it is already? Cut the necessary orders dispatching two hundred soldiers to Kansas. A hundred to Wichita and a hundred to Dodge City. Once they’re on the way, telegraph all the major newspapers, telling them only what Silver has suggested.”
“I will not mention him, then.”
“You will not,” Cleveland said. “Should this endeavor fail, I will not have it said that I did not accept full responsibility. Win or lose, when Mr. Silver returns to Washington, see that he is told I wish to meet him. Do you know where he’s originally from?”
“Texas, I believe, sir.”
“He would be,” said Cleveland. “I seem to recall that when Texas wanted only to join the Union, our Congress gave them hell. I suspect there are better men riding the range than most of those sitting on their duffs in the United States Senate.”
“Undoubtedly, sir,” Willoughby said.
“Now get cracking,” said Cleveland. “I want those orders cut and implemented immediately.”
• • •
Dodge City, Kansas, April 1, 1885
When El Lobo awakened Wes for the third watch, Renita sat up.
“Get back to sleep,” Wes said. “I’m goin’ to relieve Palo.”
“I can’t sleep, with you out there,” said Renita. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” Wes said. “I can better protect myself when I’m alone.”
But Renita insisted on going with him, and Wes eventually gave in. With the small hours of the morning, the moon had set and the stars were meager pinpoints of light, as they seemed to be retreating to that realm where they spent their daylight hours. There was no light except for a single bracket lamp at the main entrance to the Dodge House. As dawn neared, the darkness seemed all the more intense. Suddenly there was the clop-clop-clop of a horse coming at them from the left.
“Back off,” Wes hissed, for Renita was behind him.
Wes cocked his Winchester, straining his eyes, and when at last he could see the dim outline of the horse, the animal was riderless. Barely in time, Wes dropped to the ground and rolled, as off to his right, a rifle roared twice. Slugs ripped through the air just above him, but before he could return the fire, Renita’s .31-caliber Colt spoke once, twice, three times. The decoy horse had been spooked, and nickering, ran back the way it had come. No lights were showing, but doors opened swiftly. Silver and El Lobo were there.
“Renita,” Wes whispered, “where are you?”
“I . . . I’m here,” said Renita.
In an instant, Wes was beside her. She still lay belly-down, gripping the Colt with both hands. Suddenly a lamp was lighted within the Dodge House, and there was the sound of a galloping horse.
“Rein up and identify yourself,” Silver demanded.
“Sheriff Jack Dumery,” said a voice from the darkness.
“Come on,” Silver said.
The Dodge House night manager was approaching with a lantern.
“I heard shooting,” said Sheriff Dumery. “Explanations, anybody?”
“The oldest trick in the book,” Wes said. “A decoy horse, and when I was able to see it was riderless, it was almost too late. There were two shots, and Renita returned fire.”
“I shot at the flash from his gun,” said Renita. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did exactly the right thing,” Wes said, “but you might have been killed. There was a muzzle flash from your gun, too.”
Other lamps were lighted and other doors opened, as Dodge House patrons sought to learn what had happened.
“This is terrible, and could give the establishment a bad name,” said the manager. “I’d appreciate it, Sheriff, if you’d investigate this in daylight.”
“I’ll investigate it now,” Dumery said. “Let me have that lantern.”
Reluctantly the night manager handed the lantern to the sheriff.
“Now,” said Sheriff Dumery, “one of you show me where those shots came from.”
“Come on,” Wes said.
Drumery immediately found two empty shell casings, but there was something more.
“Blood,” Wes said. “There on the ground.”
“I see it,” said Dumery. “Maybe there’s enough of it to leave a trail.”
But the blood spots were not numerous enough, and with only the dim lantern light to guide them, they soon gave it up.
“Renita,” Wes said, “at least one of your shots drew blood, but whatever trail there is, we can’t follow by lantern light.”
“At first light I’ll try again,” said Sheriff Dumery, “and I’ll keep watch here until then. All of you get back to bed.”
They all returned to their rooms, locking their doors. Only then did Renita surrender to her terror. Wordlessly, she clung to Wes, trembling. It was a while before she was able to speak.
“I saw you fall to the ground, and I did the same. I started shooting before I thought of what I should do. I . . . I don’t know why. . . .”
“You have the instincts of a gunfighter,” said Wes. “When a bushwhacker cuts down on you, there’s not much time to think. You took the risk of being killed, and in spite of that, I must say I’m proud of you.”
