Ralph Compton Train to Durango (12 page)

“Damn you,” Shankler sobbed.

He fired, and the slug whipped through the sleeve of El Lobo's shirt. Seemingly in no hurry, El Lobo drew and fired once. Shankler was struck high in the right shoulder, near the collarbone, and the force of it turned him around. He fell to his knees, dropping his Colt. He started to reach for the weapon, only to have Silver fire and send it skittering out of his reach.

“That's enough,” said Silver. “Get up.”

“I . . . I can't,” Shankler mumbled.

El Lobo had hidden the horses belonging to Shankler and Pardue. Now he led them down the alley. Saying nothing, the Indian nodded toward the wounded Shankler.

“In the saddle,” Silver ordered, “unless you'd rather be tied across it belly-down.”

Sheriff Dumery arrived just as the wounded would-be killer was mounting his horse.

“I searched the varmint Stone shot off the balcony,” said the sheriff. “Wasn't nothin' on him but four hundred dollars in gold coin, and I found five hundred on Dismukes. Glad you took this coyote alive. Maybe he can tell us what the connection is.”

“I'm tellin' you nothin',” the wounded Shankler growled.

“I think you will,” Silver said. “It's that, or we'll send you back to Denver and drop you in the midst of the bastards that sent you.”

“
Bueno
,” said El Lobo.

“Wes wasn't hit, I reckon,” Silver said.

“Not a scratch,” said Sheriff Dumery. “I never seen such shootin' in my life. I believe, after he shot that
hombre
off the balcony, he could still have gunned down Curly Dismukes before the kid got off a shot. How old is Stone?”

“In gun years, about thirty,” Silver replied. “You need some help gettin' this bastardo to jail?”

“I can manage,” said Sheriff Dumery. “I'll have the doc patch him up. When do you want to question him?”

“Later today,” Silver said. “Keep him under armed guard until then.”

“All of you can go to hell,” said Shankler defiantly.

“That's where you'd be right now, if we didn't need some answers,” Silver said. “Palo, I want to congratulate you on taking him alive. Dirty bushwhacker that he is, I'm tempted to gut-shoot him myself.”

Sheriff Dumery mounted one of the horses, and with the wounded, unarmed Shankler on the other, started for the jail. Silver and El Lobo crossed the street, bound for the Dodge House. The bodies of the two dead men had been removed, and men stood about in awed silence, their curious eyes on those about whom they had heard so much, yet knew so little. Silver and El Lobo looked neither to the left or right. Reaching the Dodge House, they found Wes, Renita, Tamara, and Molly outside, waiting for them.

“I wasn't going to wait for you much longer,” said Wes. “I'm hungry.”

“You ungrateful coyote,” Silver said in feigned anger, “where were you when Palo and me were tracking down that other bushwhacker?”

“I had a gunfight on my hands,” said Wes. “Besides, there are two of you, and I had no idea you needed help. Did you?”

“
Madre mia
,” El Lobo said.

It was a perfectly ridiculous conversation, but in the aftermath of what might have been a tragedy, they needed to laugh. And they did, making their way to Delmonico's for breakfast. Not until they had eaten were the events of the morning mentioned.

“Later this afternoon,” said Silver, “we're going to have a serious talk with the varmint Sheriff Dumery's taken to jail. Palo could have killed him, but only wounded him. Injun, you have the makings of a lawman.”

El Lobo laughed, and Tamara beamed.

“I hope you cautioned the sheriff not to lock him in an open cell,” Wes said. “They'll get to him just as they got to our captives in California.”
²⁴

“I think Sheriff Dumery is aware of the danger of that,” said Silver, “but I'll make it a point to talk to him before I return to the Dodge House. We'll wait about questioning the captive until the doc's tended his wound.”

“That'll be interesting,” Wes said. “You really expect him to talk?”

“Not until he's more afraid of us than he is of the Golden Dragon,” said Silver. “We'll wait and see. Whether he does or doesn't, I have plans for him.”

“Then you'd better make your move before word of this gets back to Denver,” Wes said. “Dodge used to have a weekly newspaper. I wonder what became of it?”

“I have no idea,” said Silver.

At that point, Foster Hagerman joined them.

“Everybody's talking about what happened,” Hagerman said, “and the town council's got a mad on. Dodge hasn't had two dead men in the street since the days of the Texas cowboys and the trail drives.”

“Sorry,” said Wes. “Would the town council have felt better if I had just stood there and allowed Curly Dismukes to shoot me dead?”

“You had every right to defend yourself,” Hagerman said, “and I pointed that out. But some feel that Dismukes wouldn't have come here—”

“If I hadn't been here,” Wes finished.

“That's the talk goin' around,” said Hagerman, “and some believe there'll be others like Dismukes, with thoughts of gunnin' you down.”

“Hell's fire,” Silver said, “a man shouldn't have to become an outcast over something not of his doing. Does the town council have anything to say about the two-legged coyotes that tried to bushwhack us?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” said Hagerman. “There's speculation that the bushwhackers were friends of Curly Dismukes.”

“That ties it all up with a big red ribbon,” Silver said. “The next gun-thrower showin' up may have his
amigos
staked out with Winchesters, like the two varmints that seemed to be sidin' Dismukes.”

Sheriff Dumery sighed. “That's about how it stacks up. Some folks has got the idea that Dismukes had the bushwhackers backin' him, because you and Elfego were there in the street with Wes.”

“I don't think Dismukes had anything to do with the bushwhackers being there,” said Wes. “I accused him of that, and he denied it. I think they used him, without him realizing it. Sheriff Dumery found five hundred dollars in gold on him.”

“It's all too deep for me,” Hagerman said. “I just wanted all of you to know that the town council's got its hackles up. To make matters worse, Ashe Wexler will be comin' in from Kansas City on the east bound.”

“I reckon that should mean somethin' to us,” said Silver. “What?”

“Wexler bought out the weekly newspaper here in Dodge,” Hagerman said, “and before he could publish his first issue, he was injured. His horse spooked, and when his buckboard crashed, he was partly paralyzed. He's been in the hospital in Kansas City, and there was some doubt that he'd ever walk again. I'm tellin' you this because Ashe Wexler not only owns the paper here, he's a stringer for one of the daily papers in Kansas City.”

“I see what you mean,” said Silver. “Maybe I can talk some sense to him before the town council gets on his back.”

“Good luck,” Hagerman said. “Wexler's a Yankee, more prone to the giving of advice than he is at taking it. If his tongue's loose, and he can hold a pencil in his teeth, I look for him to become the conscience of Dodge.”

“Thanks for the warning,” said Silver. “Before Wexler hits town, I'd better have a talk with Sheriff Dumery.”

“You definitely should,” Hagerman said. “The town council is giving him hell, and when Ashe Wexler gets here, he'll side with them. Jack Dumery is an old boomtown sheriff, and I don't expect him to win another election.”

Leaving money on the table, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo stepped out the front door of the cafe. When they were sure it was safe, Wes opened the door for Molly, Renita, and Tamara.

“Why must the newspapers make it hard on us?” Molly asked. “Is there nothing we can do to stop them?”

“Not much,” said Silver. “They see it as their duty to publish the news, and there is virtually nothing I can tell Wexler about the Golden Dragon without revealing the nature of the conspiracy. I regret that I must swear Sheriff Dumery to silence. He's a good man, and instead of kicking him out, the West should be looking for more like him.”

“Palo and me can go with you if you think there's any advantage,” Wes said.

“I don't see any,” said Silver. “Sheriff Dumery knows both of you, and he's well aware that there may be more gun-throwers looking for you. The trouble is, some long-nosed newspaper editor like Ashe Wexler can suggest that, since Palo and me are always with you, that we're three of a kind. That would more or less justify Curly Dismukes setting us up with the pair of killers.”

“Perhaps it would be better, having it thought the three of you are gunfighters,” said Renita. “That might be enough to satisfy the newspapers, without them knowing of the Golden Dragon conspiracy.”

“By God, that's an idea,” Wes said. “If we're gonna catch hell every time we have to pull a gun to stay alive, then let everybody—including Ashe Wexler—think the three of us are cut from the same cloth. We protect each other.”

“
Bueno
,” said El Lobo. “It be true.”

“That's generous of you both,” Silver said, “but you should consider the consequences. With some prodding from Wexler, the town council may order us to get the hell out and stay out.”

“
Infierno
,” said El Lobo. “We don't go.”

“That's our only chance of keeping the lid on the conspiracy that could destroy the nation,” Wes said. “I just hope the damn town won't come up with an ordinance and lay it on Sheriff Dumery before we can skin the Golden Dragon.”

“It's all the more important that I talk to Sheriff Dumery before Wexler arrives and begins baying with the rest of the dogs,” said Silver. “The eastbound train will be arriving soon. The rest of you return to the Dodge House.”

“I'm going with you,” Molly said.

“I don't know if you should,” said Silver. “Our whole purpose in coming to Dodge was to keep you, Renita, and Tamara out of sight, and so out of mind.”

“Well, I don't intend to run and hide while you're being shot at,” Molly said.

“That's how I feel,” said Renita. “If it comes to another fight, I'll be right there on the street with my Colt.”

“
Sí
,” Tamara said. “
Matar.
”

Looking into their grim, determined faces, Silver laughed, taking Molly's arm.

“Come on, woman. If we have to shoot our way out, I'll expect you to see that none of ‘em shoots me in the back.”

Wes, Renita, El Lobo, and Tamara went on to the Dodge House, while Silver and Molly started for the sheriff's office.

When Silver and Molly reached the jail, the doctor had already been there. The would-be bushwhacker sat on a bunk in the first cell, and he regarded Silver with contempt.

“Close that door to the cell block, Sheriff,” Silver said. “I'd as soon that coyote can't hear what I have to say.”

“From what you said, I reckoned I'd better keep an eye on him,” said Sheriff Dumery.

Silver nodded, and Dumery closed the door. Only then did Silver speak.

“I reckon you've heard the town council's got a burr under its tail.”

“I have,” Sheriff Dumery said, “and it's no more than I expected. But nobody's broken any law except the damn bushwhackers. Dodge is halfway between what it used to be, and what it wants to become, I reckon. Too many second generation folks here that don't know how it was when Dodge was a trail town, full of brawling Texas cowboys. Do you have any ideas that might let the steam out of folks that's all riled up?”

“Maybe,” said Silver.

He then told Sheriff Dumery what he, Wes, and El Lobo had discussed, ending it with Renita's suggestion.

“You're willing to have it look like you and Elfego are friends of Wes Stone, that the three of you work together for no better reason than wantin' to stay alive,” the sheriff said.

“That's exactly what we want,” Silver replied. “If any more killers come gunning for us, let the town think they're gun-throwers looking for a reputation. I'm in no position to justify these bushwhackers by revealing their true purpose. To do that would force me to make known the nature of the conspiracy that's about to ruin the nation.”

“I won't say nothin' about that part of it,” said Sheriff Dumery.

“We're obliged, Sheriff,” Silver said. “When all this is done, when we've whipped the Dragon, I'll see that you are credited with assisting the federal government.”

Sheriff Dumery laughed. “I expect I'll need all the help I can get. I'm obliged.”

“We just had breakfast with Foster Hagerman,” said Silver, “and according to him, the editor of the local newspaper is returning from Kansas City.”

Sheriff Dumery sighed. “That means he's well enough to start printin' the paper, and I reckon he'll be looking for some big news to get him started. First thing he's likely to do is meet with the town council.”

“Yes,” Silver agreed, “and before he shows up at the jail, I need time to question that bushwhacker in the first cell. If he has anything to say, the last thing we need is for him to say it to a newspaper editor.”

“Then you'd better do your talkin' now,” said Sheriff Dumery, “before Ashe Wexler gets here. If he's able to crawl on his hands and knees, he'll be comin'.”

“I promised Palo and Wes that we'd do the questioning together,” Silver said. “They're neck-deep in this conspiracy.”

“You don't have much time,” said Sheriff Dumery. “You'd better question the varmint yourself. But I doubt it will do any good. While we know he was one of the killers, we don't have a shred of proof. Any jackleg lawyer in the country could force me to charge him or turn him loose. Whatever hand you got in mind, you'd better play it before our sainted editor gets here.”

“I suppose you're right,” Silver said. “I'll question him now.”

“Leave your Colt out here,” said Sheriff Dumery.

Silver removed his Colt from the holster, flipped it, and handed it to Sheriff Dumery butt first. Silver started for the door that opened to the cell block, Molly following.

“Molly,” Silver said, “I wish you'd wait here. Besides the varmint I'll be talking to, those three killers waiting to be extradited are back there. They might do or say something to embarrass you.”

“I'm not easily embarrassed,” said Molly. “I'm going with you.”

Hampton, Lawton, and Damark lay on their bunks in various stages of undress. While Lawton and Damark wore only their trousers, Hampton wore nothing at all. The three of them laughed when Silver and Molly entered the cell block, and Hampton stood up close to the bars, grinning.

“A she-male,” said Hampton. “I reckon you can see I'm ready, gal.”

“You crude son of a bitch, get dressed. You're insulting a lady,” Silver said.

“Haw, haw,” said Hampton. “How can she be a lady, when she's sharin' your bed? You ain't embarrassed, are you, gal?”

“No,” said Molly, looking Hampton in the eye. “I'm not so much a lady that I haven't seen my share of foolish naked men, and any one of them had more to his credit than you have.”

Silver could hear Sheriff Dumery laughing in the outer office. Then, to his surprise, Hampton walked back to his bunk and sat down, his face flaming red. His comrades began bully-ragging him, and he started cursing them. In a cell on the other side of the cell block, Dent Shankler sat on his bunk.

“Molly,” Silver said, “I want you to stay out here in the corridor. You can see and hear through the bars.”

“I'll wait,” said Molly, “but I'll be watching that other cell. I'd like to know if either of the other two are any better off than the one I've seen. Come on,” she taunted. “Embarrass me.”

Hampton's cursing had dribbled away to nothing, and the trio sat there in silence. They watched Silver use the key Sheriff Dumery had given him. When he was inside Shankler's cell, he locked the door and passed the key through the bars to Molly. Shankler sat on his bunk, saying nothing. Wasting no time, Silver spoke.

“What's your name?”

“None of your damn business,” said Shankler.

He sat in silence as Silver asked him one question after another, none of which he took the trouble to answer. Only when Silver became silent did Shankler speak.

“You can't hold me without me being charged, and you got no evidence. I'm entitled to a lawyer.”

“You're entitled to nothing,” Silver said, “unless you're willing to talk. Since you don't seem so inclined, that makes you a hostile witness. As of now, you may consider yourself charged with attempted murder. I have a federal John Doe warrant for you.”

“Charge and be damned,” said Shankler. “You can't prove I've done anything wrong, and I ain't tellin' you nothin'. Whatever you aim to do, then do it.”

“I will,” Silver said. “Molly, let me out.”

Molly unlocked the cell door, and when Silver stepped out, he took the key and locked the door. The three outlaws watched, saying nothing, as Silver and Molly went into the outer office. Silver closed the door behind them.

“Did you learn anything?” Sheriff Dumery asked.

“Only that he thinks we can't hold him without charges,” said Silver, “so I am charging him with attempted murder on a federal John Doe warrant.”

“Good, far as it goes,” Sheriff Dumery said, “but this town's got more than its share of lawyers. I reckon it won't surprise you when I tell you Ashe Wexler keeps the biggest shyster in the bunch on retainer. By this time tomorrow, Wexler will know as much as anybody can tell him about what's happened here. Then he'll have his pet law dog barking at my door.”

“Tomorrow won't be soon enough,” said Silver. “I aim to leave here on the eastbound train later today, and this closemouthed bushwhacker goes with me. I'll see that he gets a nice quiet cell at Fort Leavenworth, for the time being.”

“Good thinking,” Sheriff Dumery said. “Before I forget, there's somethin' that may interest you. This bushwhacker had more than nine thousand dollars in gold in his saddlebag. What should I do with it?”

“Did you test it to see if it's real?” Silver asked.

“I did,” said Sheriff Dumery. “It's the real stuff.”

“Then don't tell anybody you have it,” Silver said. “When we're done, there won't be anybody to claim it, and it'll belong to you, as far as I'm concerned.”

Suddenly there came the distant wail of a locomotive as it whistled for the stop at Dodge. Time was running out.

“I'm obliged,” said Sheriff Dumery. “When the dust settles, I may be out of a job.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Silver said. “I'll return here a few minutes before train time.”

Molly said nothing until they had left the sheriff's office. Then she spoke.

“You didn't tell me you were taking him to Fort Leavenworth.”

“I didn't know it myself, until a few minutes ago,” said Silver. “It's our only chance to move him before his bunch in Denver learns what's happened. Then they'll kill him, just as they murdered all the captives we took in California.”

“I'm going with you,” Molly said.

“Good,” said Silver. “I wish I didn't have to let you out of my sight until we've skinned the Dragon and staked his hide out to dry.”

When Silver and Molly reached the Dodge House, Silver knocked on the doors of Wes and El Lobo. Three short knocks, followed by a delayed fourth, was the signal calling them together. Almost immediately, doors opened. Wes and El Lobo had questions in their eyes.

“Come on to my room,” Silver said, “and bring Renita and Tamara with you.”

Once they were all inside, Silver locked the door. Then he told them first of the return of Ashe Wexler and the probable difficulties arising from the man's crusading.

“Damn,” said Wes, “the westbound's at the depot now.”

“I know,” Silver said, “and I can't take that bushwhacker from the jail until it's near time for the eastbound. It'll be just my rotten luck for Wexler to show up at the jail long before I can get our captive aboard.”

“If you're turning him over to the military,” said Renita, “Fort Dodge is close. Why not take him there?”

“Because I know the post commander at Fort Leavenworth,” Silver replied. “At Dodge, I'd have to explain my position from square one, and they might be reluctant to accept my John Doe warrant. Leavenworth has a company of military police, and a stockade so well secured that nobody's ever broken out.”

“I like the idea of the stockade,” said Wes. “We need this varmint alive and talking.”

“I went ahead and questioned him, since Wexler's coming,” Silver said, “and I learned no more than Sheriff Dumery had. We don't even know the man's name.”

“Per'ap he talk to newspaper,” said El Lobo.

“That's precisely what we don't want,” Silver said, “and odds are that he'll keep his mouth shut about his connection with the Golden Dragon. When he finally talks, I think he will try to convince the law that he and his dead partner were only siding their friend, Curly Dismukes. He knows what happens to those who betray the Dragon.”

“I'm not sure the rest of us shouldn't be going with you,” said Wes. “I feel like we've played out our string, here in Dodge.”

“I don't think so,” Silver said. “I know it seems like we're on the defensive, but they know where we are. They're being forced to come after us, so it amounts to us having chosen our own battlefield. All of you keep your eyes open and your guns handy. Molly and me will return on tomorrow's westbound. Now let's go to Delmonico's and eat. We'll be on the train during the supper hour.”

At the depot, Foster Hagerman watched as the conductor helped a partially crippled Ashe Wexler down the steps from the passenger coach. He hailed one of the hacks that were always there for the arrival of the trains, and on crutches he made his painful way to the buckboard. The driver helped him over the big front wheel, to the broad seat.

“The Dodge House,” Wexler said.

Their arrival at the Dodge House didn't go unnoticed, and that was exactly as Wexler had planned. Having the power of the press behind him, he thoroughly enjoyed intimidating others. Given time, he thought with satisfaction, he could rid the town of its troublesome old sheriff and pack the town council with men he could control. His suite at the Dodge House included a parlor, and he sent word for Elmo Giddings, president of the town council, to meet him there.

“I'd have come to you,” said Wexler with false humility, “if I had two good legs. The doc says it's unlikely I'll ever walk again.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Giddings mumbled.

“Thanks,” said Wexler, “but that's not why you're here. Tell me what's been going on while I've been away. There must have been something newsworthy.”

“Oh, there was, and is,” Giddings said.

He spoke for almost an hour, Wexler listening without comment. Wexler spoke only when he was certain that Giddings had finished.

“So there's four men in jail here in Dodge,” said Wexler, “and all of them victims of a failed ambush. They—and others who will probably follow—are here for the specific purpose of gunning down Silver, Stone, and Elfego. Why hasn't the town council demanded, through the sheriff's office, that the three leave town immediately?”

“That possibility has been suggested to Sheriff Dumery,” Giddings said, “and he refuses to consider it. Dodge has no gun ordinance. Stone, Elfego, and Silver have only defended themselves, and there's no law against that.”

“Perhaps it's time Dodge had a gun ordinance,” said Wexler. “Can you steer the council toward such a measure?”

“No,” Giddings said. “These are businessmen, and they're all armed. Not a man of them is willing to give up his own weapon.”

“I find this all quite interesting,” said Wexler. “What began as a gunfight between Wes Stone and another of his kind has now become a series of ambushes involving Silver and Elfego. That's damned strange, and there's a lot more to it than meets the eye. I'm going to the jail and demand some answers from Sheriff Dumery. While I'm there, I'll question some of those would-be killers. Giddings, go to the livery and rent a buckboard in my name.”

“I must get back to the store,” Giddings said uncomfortably. “I'm a businessman too, you know.”