Ralph Compton Train to Durango (15 page)

“I'll get you a blanket to cover the dead man,” said Hagerman. “A couple of you take him into the waiting room, until the sheriff gets here.”

“We're already behind schedule,” the engineer said.

“Then go on when you're ready,” Hagerman replied. “Sheriff Dumery knows Silver, and a report from him should be sufficient.”

“Let it wait until I've seen a doctor,” said Silver. “I've lost a lot of blood.”

“I'll get you a hack,” Wes said.

He whistled, and one of the hacks drew up beside them. Silver and Molly climbed into the back.

“To the nearest doctor,” Wes ordered.

“We'll see you at the Dodge House,” cried Molly.

“We might as well start back,” Renita said.

“
Sí
,” said El Lobo. “Silver have much to say.”

An hour later, a hack drew up before the Dodge House. Silver and Molly stepped down, and Silver paid the driver. Molly carried Silver's bloody shirt, and his left arm had a bandage from shoulder to elbow.

“Why don't you rest until suppertime?” Molly suggested.

“Because there's some talking to be done,” said Silver. “I'll rest after supper. Go get Wes and Palo.”

“Renita and Tamara too?”

“If they want to come,” Silver said.

Wes, El Lobo, Renita, and Tamara came in. Molly closed and locked the door behind them. Wes and El Lobo hunkered on the floor, their backs to the wall. The others sat on the bed. Molly had gotten Silver a clean shirt.

“We got the captive to Fort Leavenworth alive,” said Silver. “His name is Shankler, and his partner—the varmint that was killed—was Turk Pardue. The
hombre
that came after me aboard the train was Emo Hanks, from what Shankler told me.”

“We've heard of Hanks,” Wes said. “He's the bastard that tried to use a pair of New Orleans whores to lure Palo and me into a trap in Kansas City.”
²⁶

“You do not tell me of that,” said Tamara, looking accusingly at El Lobo.

“
Madre mia
,” said El Lobo, shaking his head.

“Hanks tried to bushwhack Shankler,” Silver continued, “but the sheriff in Kansas City rounded up some soldiers bound for the fort, and we had a military escort.”

“Shankler talked then?” asked Wes.

“He did,” Silver said. “When Hanks tried to kill Shankler, he wanted my promise that if he talked, we'd guarantee his safety and that the law would go easy on him. He's locked in the post guardhouse at Fort Leavenworth, and I have the post commander's promise that he'll remain there until we're ready for him.”

“My hat's off to you,” said Wes. “This is the first one of the varmints that was taken alive and made to talk.”

“Now I'm going to read you my notes,” Silver said. “Stop me if you hear anything that sounds familiar.”

They were silent as Silver read from the notebook.

“One important fact is missing,” said Wes, when Silver had finished. “We don't have any idea where the Golden Dragon is hoarding the gold.”

“I fought as hard for that as I could,” Silver said, “but Shankler didn't know. He said there's a lot that he and others like him are never told. I questioned him at length as to where their supplies of silver, gold, and copper were coming from, and again Shankler just didn't know.”

“That, or he was afraid to tell,” said Wes.

“I don't think he knows,” Silver said. “He told me enough to get himself shot dead at least ten times, if the Golden Dragon could get its claws into him.”

“We go to Denver,” El Lobo said.

“Yes,” said Silver.

“But not until your wound heals,” Molly said.

“We don't have that much time,” said Silver. “This Drade Hogan that Shankler swears is the brains behind the Golden Dragon is nobody's fool. He's heard nothing from Pardue and Shankler, and when he gets no report from Hanks, he'll expect the worst. I think it's time Wes, Palo, and me take tomorrow's westbound to Colorado.”

“Not without me,” Molly cried.

“Nor me,” said Renita and Tamara in a single voice.

“You're all making it difficult for us,” Silver said. “When all hell busts loose, it's hard for a man to just keep himself alive. The whole idea of coming to Dodge was to leave the three of you safe in a friendly town.”

“I don't think of it as a friendly town anymore,” said Molly.

“It will be safer than it has been,” Silver said, “because we're going on the offensive. We'll be going after them, instead of them coming after us. You can have an extra bed brought in, and the three of you can stay in the same room until we return. Remember, all of you are armed.”

Renita and Tamara looked at Wes and El Lobo, but found no compromise. Molly said nothing more, and when they reached Delmonico's for supper, it was a somber occasion. Renita finally spoke.

“When . . . will you be going?”

“On tomorrow's westbound,” said Silver. “I'll be talking to Sheriff Dumery before we go, asking him to look out for you while we're away.”

As though on cue, Sheriff Dumery entered the cafe, and not waiting for an invitation, he took a seat at Silver's table. Wasting no time, Dumery spoke.

“I reckon I ought to talk to you about the dead man that come in on the westbound, Silver. Just for the record, of course.”

“Of course,” Silver said.

Sheriff Dumery had only a few questions, which Silver answered readily.

“Thanks,” said Sheriff Dumery. “I reckon I don't have to tell you that Ashe Wexler is raisin' hell over the dead hombre. He's demanding that the three of you leave town and not come back.”

“We'll be able to meet half that demand, Sheriff,” Silver said. “Tomorrow the three of us will be taking the westbound to Colorado. Molly, Renita, and Tamara will remain here at the Dodge House. We'll appreciate your looking out for them while we're away.”

“I will,” said Sheriff Dumery, “and I'll ask Harley Stafford to help me. He'll be in town for the next two weeks.”

“
Bueno
,” Wes said. “I've never had a better friend than Harley, and with a pistol, he's almighty sudden.”

•   •   •

Denver, Colorado, April 15, 1885

Drade Hogan sat at his desk, puffing a cigar and drinking coffee. Though there had been no word, Hogan believed Shankler and Pardue were dead, or worse, that they had been taken alive. Hogan then turned his thoughts to Emo Hanks. While Hogan had warned them all against careless use of the telegraph, he had given Hanks a coded message to report the success of his mission. Yet he had heard nothing. Not until one of his men, Abel Hamlet, rode in from Boulder was there any news, and it was all bad.

“I thought you ought to know about this,” Hamlet said. “It come in this morning on the westbound.”

Hogan took the Kansas City newspaper, and a big black headline leaped out at him.

A bushwhacking and a shoot-out in Dodge. Two men dead in the street.

Ashe Wexler had written the piece, and Hogan read it with growing anger. He ground his teeth as he learned that not only had Wes Stone gunned down Curly Dismukes, he had killed one of two bushwhackers who had been siding Dismukes. One of the bushwhackers had been taken alive, and Bryan Silver had taken him to Fort Leavenworth. There he was to be held as a witness for the federal government.

“Damn it,” Hogan bawled aloud, “where is Emo Hanks?”

The receptionist thought Hogan was shouting at her, and opened the door.

“I just read something in the paper that made me angry,” said Hogan. “Get on back to your desk, and if anybody wants me, I'm not here.”

Drade Hogan had prepared for just such an occasion. He quickly addressed half a dozen envelopes and then wrote a brief message for each of them. These he took to the girl in the front office.

“Take these downstairs to the courier's,” Hogan said. “It's important that they be delivered immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” said the receptionist.

Hogan returned to his office to await the expected responses.

•   •   •

Dodge City, Kansas, April 16, 1885

“I wish I was going with you,” Renita said, as Wes prepared to leave for the depot.

“But you can't,” said Wes. “We're going to make it so hot for them, they won't have the chance to even think of you in Dodge.”

Silver and El Lobo were having an equally hard time leaving Molly and Tamara behind.

“I'm going to the depot with you,” Molly said.

“No,” said Silver. “That's an unnecessary risk.”

“I have a gun,” Molly said.

“Damn it,” said Silver, “I didn't buy you the Colt so you could go looking for trouble. I don't want the three of you leaving the Dodge House, except to eat at Delmonico's, and that rule's in effect until we return. I'm depending on you to keep Renita and Tamara in line. They've been through hell in Mexico, and they're just reckless enough to follow us on the next train.”

“And you think I'm not?”

“I hope you're not,” Silver said.

There was a coded knock on the door. Silver opened it to find Wes and El Lobo there.

“We'd better go,” said Wes, “or I'll have to hog-tie Renita.”

“
Sangre de Christo
,” El Lobo said, “per'ap Tamara hog-tie me.”

Silver kissed Molly long and hard. He then stepped out the door and closed it behind him. Carrying their Winchesters, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo set out for the livery, where they had left their horses. Reaching the depot, Silver went to Foster Hagerman's office.

“Wes, Palo, and me are leaving for Colorado,” said Silver. “We'll need the use of a boxcar for our horses.”

“You're in luck,” Hagerman said. “Harley's coming in from Kansas City, and he made arrangements for a boxcar there. I'll consign it to continue on to Boulder. You're not taking the ladies with you?”

“No,” said Silver. “Don't hesitate to join them for meals at Delmonico's when you can. They've been warned against going anywhere else.”

“I'll assist them any way that I can,” Hagerman said. “In case Harley hasn't told you, he's been planning for this. I've arranged for him to remain in Dodge for the next two weeks.”

“I'm obliged,” said Silver. “I appreciate you and Harley more than you'll ever know. It is a tribute to Wes Stone, that honorable men call him friend.”

“Wes and his father before him,” Hagerman said.

There was the distant wail of a whistle as the westbound train approached Dodge. Harley Stafford swung to the ground while the train was still moving. He didn't seem surprised to see Silver, Wes, and El Lobo.

“Here,” said Harley, handing Silver the Kansas City paper.

Silver, with Wes and El Lobo listening, read the story that had angered Drade Hogan.

“I thought you might find that interesting,” Harley said, when Silver finished reading the story. “Our friend Wexler didn't waste any time.”

“This will likely play hell with the information we got out of Shankler,” said Silver. “We're leaving for Colorado, taking the fight to them, instead of waiting for them to come to us.”

“Wish I was goin' with you,” Harley said, “but I reckoned I could be more help if I stuck around Dodge for a while. Anybody comes lookin' for your women, they'll have to climb over me.”

“
Bueno
,” said El Lobo.

“You're an
hombre
to ride the river with, Harley,” Wes said. “We're obliged.”

“We certainly are,” said Silver. “Now we'd better get our horses aboard that boxcar.”

At the Dodge House, Renita, Tamara, and Molly had all moved into a single room. They heard the screech of the whistle as the westbound train approached Dodge, and Renita sprawled facedown on the bed.

“Come on,” said Molly. “We'll be all right. Wes left Empty here with us.”

“It's not us I'm worried about,” Renita said with a muffled sob.

“They bueno
hombres
,” said Tamara.

Renita rolled over and sat up, rubbing her eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady.

“Don't mind me; I'm just selfish. I keep remembering that Wes said as soon as we got to Dodge, we'd stand before a preacher. But we didn't, and he hasn't spoke of it since.”

“Palo no speak of it either,” said Tamara. “Silver per'ap?”

“No,” Molly said, “he hasn't spoken of it, but there's no doubt in my mind. One day it will happen.”

“Silver didn't rescue you from a Mexican whorehouse,” said Renita. “By the time Wes found me, I'd been pawed and manhandled by every damn Mexican with a few extra pesos in his pocket. I feel used up, like parts of me are gone forever.”
²⁷

“You forget Palo take me from Mexican whorehouse,” Tamara said. “All my parts still be there. Ask Palo.”

Renita blushed furiously, and Molly laughed.

“I will ask him, when they return,” said Renita. “You think I won't?”

“No give a damn,” Tamara said.

She and Molly laughed, and Renita swapped her frown for a smile. They all waited for the whistle of the departing westbound, and when it came, they grew serious.

“The sooner they go, the sooner all this shoot-or-be-shot will be over,” said Molly.

At the depot, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo had loaded their horses and saddles into the boxcar. As they entered one of the passenger coaches, the train shuddered. Then came a departing blast from the locomotive's whistle. Dodge was soon left behind, and there was nothing before them but the flat plains of western Kansas.

•   •   •

Denver, Colorado, April 16, 1885

Drade Hogan looked at his now empty suite with some regret. It had served him well, but circumstances had forced him to vacate. He locked the door for the last time. He had no way of knowing if the federals had identified him by name, but he wasn't taking any chances. He had taken a six-month lease at a new location, using a fictitious name. In less than six months, he would be safely out of the country.

•   •   •

Durango, Colorado, April 16, 1885

Elias Hawk and Hobie Denbow had just returned to the mine with two heavy wooden boxes that the bill of lading said contained machinery.

“With the one we already got, and these two, there must be near a million dollars,” Denbow said. “How much we got to have before we make a run for it?”

“As much as we can safely take,” said Hawk. “This has got to be playin' hell with the Treasury, and it's just a matter of time until the federals put a stop to it. I figure when the law comes down hard enough on Hogan, he'll be so busy tryin' to save his own hide, he won't have time for us.”

“Trouble is,” Denbow said, “we got no way of knowin' when Hogan may decide to run for it. Suppose he shows up, wantin' the gold before we've had a chance to take it and get out of the country?”

Hawk laughed. “Hobie, my boy, the kind of riches we're talkin' about, I'd gut-shoot Drade Hogan and a dozen like him.”

Reaching the mine, they wrestled the heavy crates inside. Hawk attacked them with the hatchet until he could remove the wooden top. Each of the metal containers were locked, as the first one had been.

“Why are you openin' these?” Denbow asked. “They're just like the first one.”

“Because I won't believe there's gold in there until I see it with my own eyes,” said Hawk. “A thief will steal from his friends as quick as he'll steal from anybody else.”

“Like we're doin',” Denbow said.

“Yeah,” said Hawk, “like we're doing.”

Hawk smashed the lock on both strongboxes. But only one of them contained the gold double eagles. The second was full of rocks.

“Damn,” Denbow said. “He cheated us. We oughta raise hell.”

“The
Señor
Hogan is testing us,” said Hawk. “These strongboxes are locked. Should we complain that one of them contains only rocks, it's an admission that we opened them. We'll say nothing, and when we go, we'll leave Hogan the boxes filled with rocks.”

“These boxes is mighty heavy,” Denbow said. “You ain't told me where we're takin' ‘em or where we're goin'.”

“You'll know when the time comes,” said Hawk. “There's still some loose ends that must be tied. I'll have to ride to Santa Fe.”

“Leavin' me here?” Denbow shouted. “What if Hogan comes for the gold while you're gone? He'll kill me when he finds them locks has been blown off the strongboxes.”

“Hogan was just here,” said Hawk, “and we have only two shipments of actual gold. I must take care of business in Santa Fe if we're to get out of here alive. One of us must stay here. Even if nobody can get to the gold, we don't want them snooping around our diggings.”

“I reckon not,” Denbow said doubtfully. “But we never even come close to this kind of money before, and I just can't help feelin' this whole thing is gonna blow up in our faces.”

“You're a poor gambler, Hobie. Only the long shots pay off big.”

•   •   •

Denver, Colorado, April 17, 1885

Cautiously, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo stepped down from the train. They immediately claimed their horses, and saddling them, rode away. While still a considerable distance from Denver, they reined up to rest the horses.

“This Drade Hogan may not exist,” Wes said. “It sounds like a made-up name.”

“We don't care what he calls himself,” said Silver, “just as long as we know he's the brains behind the Golden Dragon. I'm not as concerned with his true identity as I am with the possibility that he'll be gone. That story in the Kansas City paper told him all he needs to know.”

“We owe Ashe Wexler one for that,” Wes said.

“He's broken no law,” said Silver. “You ever heard of freedom of the press?”

“I've heard of it,” Wes said, “and it always seems to work in favor of renegades and outlaws. I've heard how this same damn newspaper almost destroyed my father. Or have you forgotten that?”

“I'll never forget that,” said Silver. “I defended Nathan Stone in court, and only by the grace of God did he go free on a plea of self-defense.”
²⁸

“
Bueno
,” El Lobo said. “You win.”

“I had to,” said Silver. “Anything less would have gotten Nathan Stone the rope.”

Mounting their horses, they rode on, growing silent as they reached the outskirts of Denver. The address they sought was in a fashionable section of town. The building, when they found it, had a law office, a real estate office, and a courier and delivery service on the first floor.

“Upstairs,” said Silver. “Wes, you and El Lobo wait here on the street. I'll check out the upstairs.”

Wes and El Lobo said nothing. Not knowing what awaited them upstairs, Silver chose not to endanger them all. He started up the steps while Wes and El Lobo looked for anything or anybody that seemed the least suspicious. Reaching the second floor, Silver found every door locked. On one of them was a FOR RENT sign, with instructions to apply to the real estate office on the first floor. Silver started down the stairs, and had no sooner reached the street when all hell broke loose. The first slug narrowly missed Silver, tearing into one of the wooden steps behind him. Lead slammed into the brick wall, shrieking off in deadly ricochets. The nearest sanctuary was the real estate office. Wes and El Lobo ran for it, Silver on their heels. But the bushwhackers were expecting that. Lead whanged off the sidewalk at their feet, and when Wes swung open the door, they literally fell into the real estate office. Next to the door, a plate glass window shattered, while another shot took the glass panel out of the door. A man cursed, a woman screamed, and then there was only silence. Silver, Wes, and El Lobo got to their feet. It seemed a miracle that none of them had been hit. But their trouble wasn't over. A big man in town clothes glared at them, so furious he was unable to speak. Finding his voice, he began cursing them.

“Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you,” Silver said in a dangerously calm voice.

“Don't you threaten me,” the real estate man shouted. “You've destroyed my office, and somebody's going to pay. I'm calling the law.”

“Go ahead,” said Silver. “I'm sure they'll want to talk to you. I have a federal warrant for the arrest of the
hombre
that was rentin' the upstairs. Just how involved are you?”

“I am Sam Middleton, a reputable man,” the real estate man snarled. “I know nothing of the party who rented the upstairs. He moved out yesterday.”

“Mr. Hogan was always so nice,” said a woman peering out from behind a desk.

“Who are you?” Middleton demanded.

Silver handed Middleton his identification, and the real estate man's face went white as he studied it. In silence, he returned it, waiting for Silver to speak.

“The men firing at us were sent by your Mr. Hogan,” said Silver. “I'll contact the law before I leave Denver, and see that they're aware of this incident. You're welcome to ask for damages from the government.”

“I don't need the publicity,” Middleton said. “All I ask is that you take your friends and go. Don't come near me again.”

Silver said nothing. He opened the bullet-riddled door and stepped out, Wes and El Lobo following. When El Lobo closed the door, the remainder of the shattered glass fell tinkling to the floor.

“I still don't know where the varmints were hiding,” said Wes. “Everything within gun range has peaked roofs.”

“They were at street level,” Silver said, “because they didn't start shooting until I was off the stairs. I'd say they were shooting from the windows of that low-slung building over there.”

“Then maybe we'd better have a look at it, whatever it is,” said Wes.

When they reached the mysterious building, they found it locked. Across the glassed-in front were foot-high red-and-gold letters, reading: PRETTY GIRL SALOON AND GENTLEMAN'S EMPORIUM.

“They're likely open until three in the morning,” Silver said. “That would account for them being closed now.”

“Those bushwhackers had to get in there somehow, and they had to get out,” said Wes. “That means this place is in cahoots with this bunch behind the Golden Dragon.”

“There's some connection,” Silver said, “and I'd like to search the place before they open for business. There may be some evidence we can use. This would be a good time to tell the sheriff about Middleton's office bein' shot up. We'll ask the sheriff for a search warrant, and bring him back with us.”

“
Bueno
,” said El Lobo.

Returning to their horses, they went in search of the sheriff's office.

“Interesting,” said Sheriff Jennings, as he studied Silver's identification, “but all this seems a little far-fetched to me. I've had no report of any shooting.”

“That much you can see with your own eyes,” Silver said, trying to hold his temper. “As for my mission here, I can tell you nothing more than I already have. When this case is closed, I'll see that you have all the details. Now, will you issue that search warrant and come with us?”

“I'll do it against my better judgment,” said Jennings, “on the condition that you can show me evidence of this attempted ambush.”

“Come on,” Silver said.

Jennings saddled his horse and rode with them. They dismounted across the street from the two-story brick building, leaving their horses there. When they entered the bullet-riddled office, a woman with a push broom was sweeping up broken glass.

“Oh,” she cried, “they're back!”

“Damn it,” Middleton bawled from his small office. “I told you—”

“Hold it,” said the lawman. “This is Sheriff Jennings, and I want to talk to you.”

Middleton came out, glaring at Silver, Wes, and El Lobo as though he could cheerfully murder them. He stood there with his doubled fists on his hips, waiting for the sheriff to speak. Jennings did.

“I am told an attempted bushwhacking took place here, and from the look of things, I can believe it. What can you tell me?”

“Not much,” said Middleton. “When the shootin' started, it was like a war goin' on. There was glass breaking, and when these three come bustin' in, the shootin' got worse.”

“I've been told the truth of it, then,” Sheriff Jennings said.

“Yeah,” said Middleton wearily. “Now get them three out of my sight.”

When Sheriff Jennings, Silver, Wes, and El Lobo had left the office, Silver pointed to the distant saloon, the only cover within Winchester range.

“The shooting had to come from there,” Silver said. “There's no other cover that's close enough.”

“The Pretty Girl Saloon is owned by Madame Renae,” said Sheriff Jennings, “and in all the years I've been sheriff, I've had no trouble with her or any of the women she employs. Now you're wanting me to present her with a search warrant.”

“I am,” Silver said. “With all due respect to the lady and your relationship with her, I believe those bushwhackers were firing from that building. One way or another, I intend to search every room on the side of that building facing the ambush site.”

“We may have to wait,” said Jennings. “The place doesn't open for another hour.”

“Madame Renae doesn't live here, then?” Silver asked.