Ralph Compton Train to Durango (14 page)

“We'll take you directly to the post commander,” said Bidler.

“If it's Colonel Pendleton, I know him,” Silver said.

“It's Colonel Pendleton,” said Bidler. “It's getting late, and he may have left his office, but I can track him down.”

The rest of the soldiers remained with the buckboard until Captain Bidler returned.

“I hope we didn't interrupt anything important,” Silver said.

Bidler laughed. “I found him in the bathhouse. I told him only who you were, and that you wanted to see him.”

“Thanks,” said Silver.

Colonel Pendleton arrived, and Silver introduced Molly. He then quickly told Pendleton as much as he could, requesting sanctuary for Dent Shankler, with tight security around the clock.

“We'll take him to the guardhouse,” Pendleton said. “Nobody's ever escaped from there, and unless you can fly, it's impossible to get in.”

“
Bueno
,” said Silver. “Let's take him there. He's already been shot at and wounded. If you will, have your post doctor look at the wound in the morning.”

“I'll do that,” Captain Pendleton said. “If there's a killer loose out there, you have no business returning to Kansas City in the dark. We'll put you and Molly up for the night, and if you haven't eaten, the officers' mess is still serving.”

“We're obliged,” said Silver, “but if you don't mind, I want to personally see this man locked in the guardhouse. I may want to question him before I leave tomorrow.”

As three of the soldiers led Shankler away, Silver and Molly followed. Reaching the guardhouse, one of the soldiers unlocked the heavy door. Shankler looked back at Silver, naked fear in his eyes.

“Remember,” Silver said, “you made a promise. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

The soldiers escorted Shankler into the guardhouse, while Silver and Molly made their way to the officers' mess. There was a rumble of thunder and the distant flare of lightning in the west. Emo Hanks had dismounted, and from where he stood, he could see the high walls of Fort Leavenworth. He had no legitimate business at Leavenworth, and even if he were able to scale the massive walls, he would be captured or killed before he could find and eliminate Shankler.

“You got Shankler, Mr. Federal Man,” said Hanks aloud, “but you still got to return to Kansas City. I'll be out here waiting for you.”

Hanks hunched down to wait, without food, without a bed, cursing the elements as the rain drenched him to the hide.

•   •   •

Denver, Colorado, April 14, 1885

“Any mail or telegrams?” Drade Hogan asked, as he entered the outer office.

“No telegrams,” said the receptionist, “but there's a letter on your desk.”

Hogan sat down in his swivel chair and examined the letter. It bore no return address, and when he opened the envelope, there was a single sheet of paper. The message was brief and to the point.

Your proposal is accepted, señor. The fee is twenty-five thousand in gold. In advance.

While there was no signature, Hogan knew only too well it had come from Antonio Diaz, captain of a Mexican freighter. Hogan had lost millions in gold, when the Diaz vessel had been searched and its golden cargo seized in San Francisco Bay.
²⁵

“You'll get your gold in advance, you bastard,” said Hogan aloud, “but you'll live only as long as it takes to get me out of the country.”

•   •   •

Dodge City, Kansas, April 14, 1885

“It's been awful quiet,” Renita said, as she and Wes prepared to go to Delmonico's for breakfast. “What's going to happen next?”

“I wish I knew,” said Wes. “If Silver gets that bushwhacker into federal hands and he talks, it'll be a brand-new game.”

There were three rapid knocks on the door, a pause and then a fourth knock. El Lobo and Tamara were ready.

“
Silencioso
,” El Lobo said, when Wes opened the door.

“Enjoy the quiet while you can,” said Wes. “If Silver gets that bushwhacker to Leavenworth alive, and he talks, all hell's goin' to bust loose.”

“You don't know that he'll talk,” Renita said. “Suppose he doesn't?”

“He will, when he learns what his choices are,” said Wes. “I doubt there's a man alive who would sacrifice himself to the rope, protecting outlaws who want only to silence him with lead.”

When they reached Delmonico's, Harley Stafford and Foster Hagerman were already there, having coffee.

“Telegram,” Hagerman said, handing Wes a folded sheet of paper. The unsigned message consisted of two words: Returning tomorrow.

“Good news,” said Harley. “We asked the sender for verification and location. It came from Fort Leavenworth.”

“
Bueno
,” Wes said. “That means Silver made it, and the federals have their first live witness against the Golden Dragon.”

“
Sí
,” said El Lobo. “Silver say we go to Colorado.”

“We can,” Wes said, “if that
hombre
Silver took to Leavenworth talks. We've all been fighting a conspiracy without the foggiest notion of who's behind it. We need names.”

“I think you'll have them when Silver returns,” said Renita.

•   •   •

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, April 14, 1885

Silver and Molly arose early. Leaving the cabin Colonel Pendleton had assigned them, they went to the officers' mess for breakfast. Pendleton was there, and getting to his feet, met Silver and Molly at the door.

“The post doctor's been to see Shankler,” said Colonel Pendleton. “His wound will heal without complications. How long do you suppose he'll be here?”

“I honestly don't know,” Silver said, “except to say that he must be protected until we get our hands on the bunch trying to silence him.”

“He's still afraid of them, even in the guardhouse,” said Colonel Pendleton. “When do you want to talk to him?”

“Shortly,” Silver said. “I appreciate your sending that telegram for me last night. I want to send another to Washington, and it may be lengthy.”

“Write it, and I'll see that it's sent,” said Colonel Pendleton. “You're aware, of course, that it may be intercepted by the band of outlaws you're after, provided they have access to the telegraph.”

“I'm fully aware of it, and they do have access to the telegraph,” Silver said. “But this is one telegram I want them to intercept. I want them to know we have a potential witness in federal custody. It'll force them to make a move, if it's only to run.”

After breakfast, Silver and Molly returned with Colonel Pendleton to his office. There, Silver carefully composed the telegram to Washington.

“I'm obliged,” said Silver, handing the message to Colonel Pendleton.

“Edwards,” Pendleton said to one of his aides, “take this to the telegrapher and tell him he is to send it immediately.

“Now,” said Colonel Pendleton, when Edwards had departed with the message, “are you ready to question your witness?”

“Yes,” Silver said.

“Shall I have him brought here, or will you go to the guardhouse?”

“I'll go to the guardhouse,” said Silver. “I'm taking no chances. Molly, I want you to remain here in Colonel Pendleton's office, until we return.”

While Molly wanted very much to go, she remained silent, for she well understood the importance of what Silver was about to do. The presence of a female in a military guardhouse might become a distraction.

“This is the interrogation room,” Colonel Pendleton said, when he and Silver entered the guardhouse. “Wait here, and I'll have your witness brought to you.”

Silver waited, and when a pair of soldiers brought Shankler in, he seemed considerably less distraught than he had the day before.

“Sit down,” said Silver. “We have some talking to do.”

“I'll tell you what I know,” Shankler said, “on the condition you go easy on me. I want somethin' in writing, so you don't double-cross me.”

“Nothing in writing,” said Silver. “I wouldn't double-cross even a coyote like you, but you'll have to take my word.”

Silver said no more, and after a prolonged silence, Shankler spoke.

“I ain't used to
hombres
treatin' me square,” Shankler said grudgingly. “Where d'you want me to start?”

“You can begin by telling me who is behind this Dragon empire,” said Silver, taking from his coat pocket a notebook and a pencil.

Haltingly, fearfully, Shankler began. There were long intervals of silence, but swallowing hard, he continued. After half an hour, Silver interrupted.

“You haven't told me where the stronghold is, where the gold is kept.”

“Because I don't know,” Shankler cried. “All I know is, it ain't in California no more.”

“What about the gold, silver, and copper? It was once shipped in from abroad. Where is it coming from now?”

“I don't know,” said Shankler. “None of us was told anything we didn't have to know.”

“I want as many names as you can remember,” Silver said, “and I don't care whether they mean anything to you or not.”

Shankler talked until his voice was little more than a whisper, while Silver continued to take rapid notes. Finally he closed the notebook.

“That's enough for now, Shankler.”

“Where do I go from here?” Shankler asked. “I just signed my own death warrant.”

“I don't think so,” said Silver. “Eventually you'll be taken to Washington, but I intend to see that you remain here until there's nobody left to come gunning for you. There'll be a trial later on, and I'll be there to speak up for you.”

Silver knocked on the door through which the soldiers had brought Shankler, and they returned to take him away. Silver went back to Colonel Pendleton's office and knocked on the door. He was bid enter, and did so. Molly said nothing, and Colonel Pendleton spoke.

“I hope you learned what you needed to know.”

“Not everything,” said Silver, “but enough to give me a sense of direction. We need to get back to Kansas City in time to catch the westbound.”

“You want an escort back to town, to the depot?”

“No,” Silver said. “I doubt we'll be in any real danger from here to Kansas City.”

Colonel Pendleton ordered the buckboard's team harnessed and the rig brought out.

“I'm obliged, sir, for everything,” said Silver.

“Glad I could help you,” Colonel Pendleton said, taking Silver's hand.

Silver helped Molly up to the front seat, climbed up beside her, and took the reins. He raised his hand to the sentry at the gate as they passed through.

“I hope nobody's waiting to ambush us,” said Molly.

“I can't promise there won't be,” Silver said, “but I aim to keep to open ground. It's doubtful there'll be anybody laying for us, unless it's Emo Hanks, the varmint that tried to kill Shankler as we got off the train.”

Emo Hanks followed at a considerable distance, cursing Silver as he kept to the open. There was absolutely no cover for an ambush. Hanks knew he must reach Kansas City in time to catch the westbound to Denver but found himself on the horns of a dilemma. Had Silver seen his face on the train? If Silver returned to Dodge—and Hanks believed he would—would Silver recognize him aboard the train?

“Damn him,” said Hanks. “He's likely milked Shankler dry. I got to get to Denver.”

With little or no possibility of ambushing Silver, Hanks gave it up. He rode wide, so as not to be seen, and got ahead of the slower buckboard. He would reach Kansas City first, get his ticket, and wait until Silver and his woman were aboard the westbound train. Then Hanks would board a different coach. He might yet ambush Silver, he thought, for much could happen on a moving train.

Dodge City, Kansas, April 14, 1885

The buckboard and team had been rented at a livery nearest the railroad, and after returning the rig, it was but a short walk to the depot. There was nobody in sight as Silver and Molly approached, but Silver paused, looking carefully around.

“What or who are you expecting?” Molly asked.

“Emo Hanks,” said Silver. “I don't know how the varmints found out so quickly that we had Shankler, but Emo Hanks came here to kill him. He'll catch hell, returning to Denver with Shankler still alive, but he might still be within the good graces of the Golden Dragon if he can gun me down.”

“He's nowhere in sight,” Molly said. “We already have our tickets, so we can board the train from this side of the track, keeping it between us and the depot.”

“That's what we'll do,” said Silver.

Molly eyed him critically. She knew him well enough to realize he had thought of something he wasn't ready to tell her. Her hands felt cold and stiff as she loosened the Colt in its holster. In the distance, there was the blast of a locomotive whistle, as the westbound signaled for the stop at Dodge. When the train rolled in, there were three passenger coaches. Ahead of them were two boxcars and a baggage coach. A caboose trailed the third passenger coach.

“Let's take the last coach,” Molly suggested.

“We can do better than that,” said Silver. “We have tickets. I'm going to see if I have enough influence to get us into the caboose.”

The brakeman was just stepping down from the caboose when he saw Silver and Molly approaching. He waited, and Silver spoke.

“Pardner, we have our tickets, but we'd like to ride with you in the caboose from here to Dodge. I'm Bryan Silver, and this is Molly.”

“I'm O. L. Whiteside,” said the brakeman, “and it's against railroad regulations for you to ride in the caboose. Why are you wantin' to do that, if you have tickets?”

“Because I suspect there'll be an
hombre
on board who plans to kill me, if he can,” Silver replied, “and if we're in one of the passenger coaches, others could be in the line of fire. With all due respect to railroad regulations, don't refuse us the caboose until you've had a look at my credentials.”

Whiteside looked at the identification Silver had presented and returned it. His voice, when he spoke, was more kindly.

“That's enough to override railroad regulations if anybody gets curious. Go ahead and climb aboard. I'll be back shortly.”

Silver and Molly entered the caboose, finding it less roomy than it had appeared. There was an iron rung ladder extending from the floor to the glassed-in cupola atop the caboose.

“From up there,” said Silver, “I can see the entire train ahead of us.”

“You're expecting Hanks to come gunning for you back here?”

“I don't know what I expect,” Silver said. “In fairness to Whiteside, I'll have to talk to him when he returns.”

Emo Hanks had been in the depot waiting room. He had seen Silver and Molly pause as they neared the tracks, and when the westbound train pulled in between them and the depot, he lost sight of them. When the train stopped, he believed they would enter the third coach, so he quickly made his way to the first. The passengers on the first coach remained in their seats, bound for points west. When the conductor put down the step, Hanks climbed up to the railed landing, where he could see through the glass in the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no sign of Silver and the woman. Looking back toward the depot, he saw nobody except a trainman in overalls on his way to the caboose. Feeling more confident, Hanks then entered the passenger coach and took a seat. There were no other passengers near. He broke his Colt and made sure a sixth shell was in an empty chamber where the hammer rested. He then returned the weapon to its holster, knowing he would likely need all six loads in his desperate bid to gun down Bryan Silver. The train lurched into motion. With clanging bell and a blast of the locomotive's whistle, it headed west, to Dodge City and finally to Colorado. When they were well under way, Kansas City more than an hour behind, Emo Hanks got up and walked to the far end of the coach, where it was coupled to a second coach. He slipped through the door, and stepping across the couplings, reached the landing before the door of the second coach. Peering cautiously into the coach through the glass in the door, he saw no sign of Silver and the woman. Boldly Hanks entered the second coach, certain that he would find Silver and Molly in the third. He cursed under his breath, when looking into the third coach he saw no sign of his intended quarry.

“Damn him,” Hanks grunted, “where is he?” Then realization hit him like a lightning bolt. Silver and the woman were in the caboose!

From the landing of the third passenger coach, Hanks studied the caboose. While there was a door, there was no glass, and Hanks couldn't see inside. But on that end of the caboose, there was an iron rung ladder to the roof, and Hanks climbed it. Raising his head just above the roof, he could see the glassed-in hump atop the caboose. Inside, Silver was talking to Whiteside, the brakeman.

“I can't promise you the
hombre
that's after me won't try to get to me here. Take that bench farthest away, by the front wall. Whatever happens, don't get involved.”

“Like hell,” said Whiteside. “The Winchester there under the bench is loaded. If some varmints start slinging lead, I'll sling a double dose right back at him.”

“
Bueno
,” Silver said, “but don't get yourself hurt. If this
hombre
stalking me plays out his hand, I may have to do some tall talking to satisfy the railroad.”

Atop the caboose, Emo Hanks inched his way along a catwalk toward the glassed-in cupola. If Silver was there, Hanks had made up his mind to try for the kill. With anything less to his credit, he dared not enter Drade Hogan's office.

“Molly,” said Silver, “move to that bench in the front of the car. It's time I went up this ladder.”

“The cupola's hinged at the front and swings open,” the brakeman said.

“I reckon I can see through the glass,” said Silver.

But just ahead of the caboose, Emo Hanks hunkered atop the third passenger coach and pondered his next move. Startled when Silver's face appeared behind the glass of the cupola, Hanks fired hurriedly. The slug shattered the glass of the cupola and slammed part of the wooden frame into Silver's head. Stunned, he fell to the floor of the caboose, aware that Whiteside had seized his Winchester and had started up the iron ladder. Her frightened eyes on Silver, Molly had drawn her Colt.

“Hold it,” said Silver, getting unsteadily to his feet. “I'm going after him.”

“You're hurt,” Molly cried, her eyes on the bloody gash extending from Silver's left temple to the point of his chin.

Heeding Silver's command, Whiteside had stepped out of the way. Silver sleeved the blood from his face, and without a word, mounted the ladder. Keeping his head down, he cautiously raised what remained of the shattered cupola. There were no more shots, and Silver climbed out onto the roof of the caboose. He had no idea where Hanks was, but he suspected the man would take refuge in one of the passenger coaches. There Silver would be at a great disadvantage, for he couldn't risk wounding or killing another passenger in his eagerness to get at Hanks. But Hanks had not entered a passenger coach. He clung to the iron rung ladder at the forward end of the second coach, his Colt in his hand.

“Come on, damn you,” said Hanks, as Silver balanced himself atop the caboose.

In daylight, the westbound traveled at top speed. Silver moved slowly forward along the catwalk, finding it difficult to keep his balance with the swaying of the train. He had just bridged the gap between the roof of the caboose and that of the third passenger coach when, from his position between the first and second coaches, Hanks fired. The slug struck Silver in the upper left arm. Stumbling backward, he fell to his knees, causing the second slug to pass over his head. Through it all, he had clung to his Colt, and raising the weapon, he fired. His lead slammed into the iron shell of the second passenger coach, just below the roofline. There was a deadly ricochet, and a fragment of lead found Emo Hanks where he crouched between the two coaches. For a few horrified seconds, he stared at his bloody left thigh. Now afraid for his life, he forgot the remaining three loads in his Colt and sought only to escape. There was no feeling in his left leg as he mounted the ladder to the roof of the second passenger coach. Silver had been hit, but it hadn't in the least hurt his accuracy. Hanks had barely reached the roof of the coach when a slug tore splinters from the catwalk beneath his feet. He stumbled, regained his balance, and stumbled on. His fear of Drade Hogan had given way to fear of Silver, and his mind searched frantically for a way out of what had become a life-or-death situation. He dared not leap from the train, for he had no horse, and he could feel his boot filling with blood from his wound. He must escape this devil pursuing him, reach a place of safety, and have a doctor tend his wound. Then, as though by inspiration, he realized what he must do. He stumbled on, as lead from Silver's Colt came painfully close. He must reach the locomotive's cab and take control of the train, but first he would rid himself of Silver.

Silver's Colt was empty, and rather than try to reload atop the swaying, fast-moving train, he holstered the weapon. He thought he knew what Hanks had in mind, and when Hanks reached the forward end of the baggage coach, he was sure of it. Hanks disappeared between the baggage coach and the tender, but hearing the shooting, the engineer and fireman had witnessed the deadly chase. When Hanks dropped between the baggage coach and the tender, the fireman bought in. Climbing over the piled-high wood, he found Hanks between the tender and baggage coach, desperately trying to loose the coupling.

“Hey, you,” the railroad man shouted.

Hanks responded by drawing his Colt, but the fireman flung a heavy stick of wood. It struck Hanks in the head, blunt end first, and he was flung to the ballast beside the track. There was a scream of brakes and a jolt as the engineer sought to stop the train. Silver was thrown belly-down atop the baggage coach, and he lay there until the train shuddered to a stop. Silver sat up, aware of running footsteps, and there was Molly coming along the catwalk from the caboose. She reached Silver just as the fireman did, and this time, the railroad man had a Winchester.

“What the hell was you tryin' to do?” the fireman shouted.

“Can't you see he's wounded?” cried Molly.

“I'll live,” Silver said. “The
hombre
I was after is wanted by the federal government. Where is he?”

“Alongside the track,” said the fireman. “The damn fool was uncouplin' the tender from the rest of the train. I slugged him with a chunk of wood. Now just who are you?”

“I have proper identification,” Silver said, “but before we get into that let's find that
hombre
who fell from the train.”

The fireman swung down a ladder to the ground, Silver and Molly following. Far down the track, well beyond the caboose, some passengers from aboard the train had gathered. The train's engineer and conductor were there, and they turned inquiring eyes on Silver. It was the fireman who spoke.

“This gent was chasin' the feller that was tryin' to uncouple the engine and tender from the rest of the train. He's a federal man of some kind. Claims he got identification.”

“We'll have to see it,” said the engineer. “The man he was chasin'—the one you hit with a chunk of wood—is stone dead. Busted neck.”

“Stand aside,” Silver said. “I'll have to confirm it.”

Reluctantly they moved away, allowing Silver to view what remained of Emo Hanks. He then took his identification from his coat pocket and passed it to the engineer.

“Silver and his woman were in the caboose with me,” the brakeman volunteered. “It was the dead man that started the shootin'.”

“Untanglin' all this is a job for the law,” the fireman said. “Let's load this dead gent in the baggage car and get on to Dodge.”

“All you passengers get aboard,” ordered the conductor.

The fireman and brakeman carried the dead Emo Hanks to the baggage coach. Silver and Molly entered the third passenger coach and took their seats.

“Does it hurt much?” Molly asked, eyeing the blood-soaked sleeve of Silver's shirt.

“I've had more pleasant experiences,” said Silver. “Here, take my bandanna and tie it as tight as you can, just above the wound. I'll last until we reach Dodge and a doctor. I wish I'd insisted on searching Hanks, before he was put into the baggage coach.”

“You know who he was and what he was,” Molly said, “and he tried to kill you. What more do you need to know?”

“Nothing, I reckon,” said Silver. “What I'd like to know is how the hell they knew we had Shankler. They had to know, almost the minute we took him, for Hanks to get on our trail so quickly.”

“You don't suppose Wexler . . .”

“No,” Silver said. “We left Dodge with Shankler the same day Wexler arrived. Hanks had to arrive from Denver on the same train we took to Kansas City. It makes no sense him gettin' here so fast.”

“Perhaps it does,” said Molly, “if you forget about Hanks. Turk Pardue was dead, and Dent Shankler was in jail. Hanks could have been sent to Dodge to find out what had become of Shankler and Pardue.”

Silver laughed. “I thought I was pretty good, but you're better than I am. When the trail pulled in from Denver, Hanks must have seen us waiting to board the train, with Shankler in handcuffs. Instead of getting off at Dodge, he followed us on to Kansas City. When he was unable to kill Shankler, he decided to come after me.”

When the westbound train reached Dodge, Silver and Molly found Wes, El Lobo, Renita, and Tamara waiting. Foster Hagerman and Harley Stafford were there as well, and while the locomotive took on water the engineer approached Hagerman. He quickly explained the shooting, mentioning the dead man in the baggage coach.