Hell stage to lone pine, p.7
Hell Stage to Lone Pine, page 7
‘I appreciate that, but I reckon it might be better if I went alone. I could make quicker time that way.’
Hethridge thought for a moment before reluctantly agreeing.
‘I guess someone should be here in case she makes her own way back. After all, it’s probably a storm in a teacup.’
‘What about you?’ Brewer said to Riley.
‘You two can handle things,’ Riley said. ‘Right now I reckon I got some business in Eagle Creek.’
‘What sort of business?’ Brewer said.
‘You remember what we were sayin’ about the stage line and the Plains and Western? Well, I reckon I got something important to discuss with Jim Drewitt.’
Josie Hethridge remained up the tree for a long time before even considering the possibility of coming down again. Although she was a brave and self confident woman, what she had seen of the men pursuing her had left her frightened and unsettled. What she had heard of their conversation convinced her that she could expect little consideration at their hands. It looked like they might be out to kidnap her and, if she remembered correctly, Choate was the name of one of the men who had tried to lynch Brewer. How she wished that Brewer would come by, that he could be with her now.
When she was reasonably sure that the riders would not return, she carefully shifted her position so that she could begin to climb down from the tree. Careful as she was, however, when she turned to face the tree and placed her foot on the next branch, she felt it slip. She made a desperate grab at the branch above but her hand slipped away, grasping only a handful of twigs and leaves. The next moment she lost her balance completely and came crashing down through the intervening branches, landing heavily and bashing her head against the base of the tree. She lay inert while the tethered horse shifted uneasily.
When she came round she didn’t know where she was. She was lying on her side and her neck and shoulders were aching. She also had a bad headache and her foot hurt. Her head was twisted round where she had landed awkwardly but she succeeded in moving it and then in raising herself so that she was lying with the upper part of her back against the tree bole. When she tried to get to her feet, however, she fell back with a gasp. Something was wrong with her ankle. She tried again but the stab of pain that shot through her foot persuaded her that to stand upright was out of the question. She had either sprained or broken her left ankle.
Braving the pain in her neck, she turned her head towards where she had tied the horse, in order to calculate the distance she would have to slither to get to it. The horse was gone. When she could not see it, she grew frightened. Maybe the riders had come back and found it. But then they would have found her too, even though she was concealed in the tree. Somehow it must have slipped its rein. She gave a groan in which pain and disappointment were mingled.
What was she to do now? She couldn’t move, or at least not very far and only with the greatest difficulty. She was hungry and thirsty and the night was coming on. Unless someone found her, she was helpless. And who would be likely to find her in the secret place she had specifically selected for the security it offered? Night descended swiftly in the shade of the trees and she began to feel cold. Adjusting her riding habit to make best use of the warmth it provided, she lay down and her eyes closed.
When Calvin Choate returned to the Buzzard On A Rail, he was not particularly well received. Once again he had failed to come up with the goods and Sloane was not pleased.
‘We ran off most of the herd,’ Choate lied. ‘Brewer will be hard put to make it the rest of the way without the men we killed.’
‘If you took out so many, how come you didn’t stay to finish the job?’
‘We figured it’d be best to get back here.’
Sloane was exasperated. ‘You’d better not fail me again,’ he rapped.
‘Just say what you want and I’ll get it done,’ Choate replied.
Sloane was thinking. At least Brewer was out of the way and some damage had been inflicted on the chances of the Lone Pine raising the cash they needed. He could even have another word with Marshal Burke and see if he could arrange for a posse to ride out and collect Brewer. Right now events were speeding up and it might be useful to have Choate on hand. It was a pity he had to take people like Choate into his employ but it couldn’t be helped. It was just unfortunate that Choate appeared to be so incompetent. Maybe that wouldn’t matter so much if he put him on to something that required much more in the way of sheer brawn than any job he had assigned him to so far.
‘Do you think you could manage with a shovel?’ he said.
‘A shovel. How do you mean?’
‘Just a little something I’ve thought of that might help convince Hethridge that he’s be better off sellin’ up than tryin’ to make a show of things with the Lone Pine.’ Choate looked blank. ‘I’ve already got some of the boys involved.’
‘Involved in what?’
Sloane looked the slobbery figure of the gunman up and down.
‘Guess you could do with the exercise. It’s like this. The Lone Pine relies on the Deep Fork for its water supply. Part of it runs through Buzzard On A Rail land. If we block it up, the Lone Pine’s out on a limb.’
Choate seemed to struggle with the idea.
‘Like I say, some of the boys have already started work on it. Regular little team of beavers,’ Sloane said. ‘Take a few of the men who’ve just come back with you and get yourselves down there.’
Suddenly Choate’s eyes lit up. ‘I got it!’ he said.
‘Got what?’
‘Dynamite!’ Choate replied. ‘I used to work with the stuff. It was a whiles ago but I remember how to handle it.’
Sloane looked dubious.
‘A few sticks of dynamite would come in mighty useful blockin’ off that stream,’ Choate said. ‘I seen it done before at the diggin’s.’
It was something Sloane had not considered, but as he thought about it the idea seemed to make some kind of sense.
‘If you’re sure you know what you’re doing,’ he said to Choate.
‘Leave it to me, boss. This’ll sure speed things up some.’
At a signal from Sloane that the discussion was ended Choate turned on his heels and went out through the door. Watching him go, Sloane wasn’t quite so sure. Well, he thought, what does it matter so long as they get the job done? Following Choate, he made for the stables, where his horse was waiting ready saddled, and started off in the direction of town.
The lawyer, Everard Hite, was expecting Sloane’s visit and was prepared for his arrival. He heard the rancher come up the stairs, then there was a brief interlude. That will be him carrying on with Miss Chancellor, Hite thought. In another few moments the secretary knocked on the door and Sloane was admitted.
‘Nice to see you, Mr Sloane. Please take a seat.’
Sloane sat down. ‘Well,’ he rapped. ‘Have you got those documents prepared?’
‘Just about. Paperwork’s almost done.’
‘I told you I wanted it done pronto.’
‘Mr Sloane, I’m doing my best. You must realize that these things take time.’
‘I ain’t got time. Either those documents are ready by noon tomorrow or you’re out of the deal.’
A slight lifting of the corners of his mouth indicated that Hite was smiling. Or was it a gesture of distaste?
‘As I say, these things take a little time. Just be patient a little longer. However, I do have something to report.’
‘Yeah? And what might that be?’
‘My researches have led me to examine the title deeds of several of the properties in the area and something very interesting has emerged.’
‘Get on with it.’
‘Well, to put it bluntly, Mr Sloane, there seems to be some query about your own title deeds to the Buzzard.’
Sloane did not move but Hite could see that the bolt had gone home. There was a lengthy pause.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Sloane said.
‘It’s quite simple. It appears that the property once belonged to a gentleman named Hayes. He died some time ago, in fact about the same time as you came to Eagle Creek. There were some suspicious circumstances associated with his death, but nothing ever came of them.’
‘What are you trying to insinuate?’
‘Absolutely nothing. But some people at the time apparently found it a little curious that the Buzzard On A Rail found its way into your hands. After all, so far as people could tell, neither of you even knew the other.’
Sloane got to his feet. ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ he barked. ‘I don’t know what your game is, Hite, but I’d advise you to be very careful about what you say. In fact, if I were you I’d watch my next step very closely. Do you understand me?’
‘If I’ve disturbed you in any way, then I apologize. However, things are as they are. If sleeping dogs are to be left where they lie, then there may be a cost involved.’
‘Just have those documents ready next time I stop by.’ Sloane paused and looked Hite in the eye. ‘I don’t take kindly to threats,’ he added.
Hite’s grin grew just a little wider. It was a nervous gesture.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re getting at,’ he replied. ‘Let’s put it this way. The fees for my services have just increased. By a substantial amount.’
Sloane emitted something between a snarl and a laugh.
‘You’ll get just whatever you’re due,’ he said.
For the second time in consecutive visits Miss Chancellor was ignored as he stormed past her desk and out of the door.
Jim Drewitt was sitting in his office at the stage depot in Eagle Creek, feeling more than a little worried. Because of the attacks on the stagecoaches he was finding it almost impossible to find drivers. Two guards had been killed. There had been no stages between Eagle Creek, Rock Corner and Lansberg for three days and it looked like the line was about to fold. He had been holding off bids from the Plains & Western Railroad Company for a considerable time because they were way below what he figured the stage line was worth, but now it looked like he might be forced out of business altogether. He poured a stiff glass of whiskey from the bottle which stood on his desk and looked out of the back window at the two scarlet Concord coaches standing idly in the yard. They had cost him over $1,000 each and he still owed the bank. Just then a shadow appeared in the open doorway and next moment someone entered. He couldn’t see at first who it was because of the sunlight but as the man came forward, he recognized with sudden pleasure the face of his old friend Whipcrack Riley.
‘Whipcrack!’ he exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and seized Whipcrack by the hand. ‘What are you doin’ back in these parts?’
‘Workin’ for a spread called the Lone Pine.’
‘Morgan Hethridge’s place? How come you wound up there?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Riley replied.
‘I reckon you could put away a drink,’ Drewitt commented.
Riley looked at the half empty bottle and then at his friend. ‘Sure could,’ he said.
Drewitt got a glass and poured him a drink. While he did so Riley looked out of the window and saw the coaches standing in the yard.
‘Business not so good?’ he queried.
‘Worst it’s ever been. Couple of guards been shot recently and nobody wants to take on the job, either drivin’ or ridin’ messenger.’
‘That’s a mite unusual,’ Riley said. ‘I can’t remember exactly how long I was drivin’ those contraptions, but I don’t remember havin’ no trouble.’
‘You’re right,’ Drewitt replied. ‘I can’t seem to figure it out.’
Riley took a long swig of whiskey. ‘How long’s it been goin’ on?’
‘The shootin’? Just this last couple of weeks. But there were little incidents before that. Nothin’ much but enough to cause me a few headaches. Wheel come loose, horse goin’ lame, that sort of thing.’
‘Just coincidence?’
‘I don’t know. I thought so but now I’m beginnin’ to wonder. The stage line just seems to be cursed.’
Riley drank again. ‘What you say don’t really surprise me,’ he said.
Drewitt looked up.
‘Last time I was drivin’ for you, you happened to mention the Plains & Western Railroad Company. At that time there was just some vague talk about them maybe buildin’ a spur line out this way. Now I gather it’s more definite. If you don’t mind me askin’, what are they offerin’ you for the stage company?’
‘Not enough,’ Drewitt replied. ‘I don’t want to sell up anyway, but I’m old enough to know which way the wind is blowin’. There’s no holdin’ back progress. But I’d like to be paid a fair amount for the company. I’m only askin’ what it’s worth.’
‘And they’re offerin’ a lot less. Have you thought that maybe they figure the time has come to put more pressure on you?’
Drewitt’s brows contracted in thought. ‘Funny you should say that,’ he said. ‘I guess I hadn’t got round to seein’ things in quite that way, but now you mention it, I was beginnin’ to wonder if there might be somethin’ more involved.’
‘Look,’ Riley said, ‘let me tell you exactly what I think is goin’ on.’
In a few words he outlined what Brewer had told him of what he knew about the situation between the Lone Pine and the Buzzard On A Rail and the things which had been taking place recently.
‘My guess is that Sloane and the Plains & Western are in cahoots. They’re puttin’ pressure on anybody who stands in their way. At first it was little things but now that the stakes are higher, they’re pilin’ it on more. Sloane wants to get his hands on the Lone Pine because of the right of way. The Plains & Western offer him a bargain price and even so he cleans up. The railroad gets the land rights. Everyone’s a winner.’
‘Except for me and Morgan Hethridge,’ Drewitt exclaimed. He looked angrily at Riley. ‘You figure the Plains and Western are behind the killin’s of my employees?’
‘Who’s behind the Plains and Western?’ Riley asked.
‘A man by the name of Jackson Cole.’
Riley grinned. ‘Now ain’t that a surprise?’ he said. ‘If he’s the same Jackson Cole used to be involved with the Lone Mountain Railroad scandal that would sure fit.’
‘Lone Mountain?’ Drewitt said.
‘It was to do with the hire of Chinese labour in the Sierras. Nasty business.’
The two men were silent for a moment.
‘Anyway,’ Riley remarked, ‘it don’t matter much exactly whose pullin’ the strings, whether it’s Sloane or Cole or whatever combination, the outcome is the same.’
Drewitt poured another drink. ‘Is that why you came to see me?’ he said. ‘If so, what are you proposin’?’
‘I want my job back,’ Riley said.
Drewitt laughed. ‘Sure,’ he said, ‘it’s yours. I only wish I could find a few others the same.’
Riley had risen to his feet and now looked out of the window. Down the street he could see Marshal Burke walking towards the stage depot.
‘Drewitt,’ he said, ‘I gotta leave. Don’t worry, I’ll be back in touch real soon.’
‘Where are you goin’?’
‘Marshal’s goin’ to be here in a minute. I don’t want him to see me. Is there a back way out?’
Drewitt peered out at the street, then grinned. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Right this way.’
Together they went through a door which led into a back office. Another door took them outside to where a number of horses stood in the corrals and the two stagecoaches gathered dust. Drewitt pointed with his finger to a fence, behind which were some trees.
‘Thanks,’ Riley said. ‘Be seein’ you real soon.’
Drewitt watched him as he awkwardly climbed the fence and set off into the trees.
‘Now I wonder what else the old buzzard has been up to?’ he said to himself and then went back inside to face the marshal.
Once he had reached the shelter of the trees Riley came to a halt. He had intended making his getaway but now a sudden thought struck him. He stood for a while regaining his breath while he considered the new idea which had occurred to him. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. It depended on just how open to reason the marshal might be. He, Riley, would be putting himself at some risk if he was to put his idea to the test. He started to move away through the trees before coming to a stop again. Then he turned and began to retrace his steps, making his way to the marshal’s office to await Burke’s return.
When Brewer set off from the Lone Pine in search of Josie he was in such a state of turmoil that he failed to recognize any sign of her as he rode across the range. One thing he was certain of: when he found her and she was safe he would lose no more time in letting his feelings be known to her. It didn’t matter if his case was hopeless, if she was too far above him. At least the burden of keeping it to himself would be lifted.
He rode hard at first and then, as his first sense of outrage and anxiety began to subside, he slowed the pinto to an easy trot and began to look around him. He had been travelling in the direction of the Buzzard On A Rail and as he calmed down he realized that this was probably the wrong way to go. If Josie had set off for a ride, she would be more likely to follow the line of the Deep Fork. He turned his horse and set off in that direction.
He rode for some time without seeing anything, then his eyes picked out something a little way off to his right. When he rode up he found obvious sign that three riders had passed that way. There was nothing particularly unusual in that but for some reason he felt suspicious. The cattle were gone and there was no need for anyone to be riding through. The Lone Pine hands were pretty well accounted for. Could that mean that the riders were from the Buzzard On A Rail? In which case they were trespassing on Lone Pine property. Having no other plan in mind, he decided to follow their trail.
It was easy to track. After a while it took a sudden turn and when he got down to examine the sign more closely he could tell that the horses had broken into a gallop at that point. Why would they have done that? He remounted the pinto and started off again. The trail was leading him in the general direction of the Deep Fork and eventually he saw trees ahead indicating the course of the stream. The tracks led straight through the trees and into the water. He looked up and down the stream, looking for clues. He rode a little way and then some bent leaves on a willow leaning into the water told him that the riders had probably passed that way.
