Ralph Compton Train to Durango (17 page)

“So sue me, and when you leave here, I don't want to see you ever again.”

“I'll go,” said Hogan, “and you can forget anything I said about South America.”

“Then give me the key and get out.”

Hogan laughed. “I'll go, but the key goes with me. My lawyer drew up the contract in a manner that, if anything happens to you, this place reverts back to me. It would be quite embarrassing for you to meet an untimely end, leaving me without a key to my own saloon. It's all one hundred percent legal, I might add.”

“You're a fine one to speak of legalities. It was one of your underhanded schemes that brought the law down on me. You brought in a bunch of killers, and when they failed to kill as you'd paid them to, they ran out of here, leaving the door standing open. It was like that when the sheriff showed up to investigate the shooting.”

“The law's been here?” Hogan asked, alarmed.

“Sheriff Jennings,” said Madame Renae, and then she twisted the knife. “With him were the three men you tried to ambush. The sheriff had a search warrant, and they found the broken glass in the three rooms where your killers were hidden.”

“They can't prove a damn thing,” Hogan shouted.

It was Madame Renae's turn to laugh. “Legally, perhaps not, but there's a lot more to it than just an overly nosy sheriff. He was here only because the three men you tried to kill needed a search warrant.”

“They were here?” Hogan cried.

“They were,” said Madame Renae with some satisfaction.

Drade Hogan just stood there cursing under his breath until Madame Renae interrupted his tirade.

“Damn you, I want that key, and then I want you out of here.”

“I'll see that you get everything that's coming to you,” Hogan snarled, “but I think I'll just keep the key to remember you by.”

“It won't be of any use to you in hell,” said Madame Renae.

As though by magic, a double barrel .41-caliber Derringer had appeared in her hand, and its ugly snout was pointed unwaveringly at Drade Hogan's middle.

“You wouldn't dare,” Hogan said.

“Try me,” said Madame Renae. “I'll shoot you dead, and then I'll go free. All I'll have to do is tell the law it was you who hired those killers, and that you came here threatening me. Now hand me that key, and don't try anything foolish.”

Hogan looked again into her green, hate-filled eyes and surrendered the key. He turned and left the office, his mind racing frantically, like a doomed mouse seeking to escape a determined cat. Mounting his horse, he rode as fast as he dared without attracting undue attention. He looked back, and just for a moment, he fancied he had seen riders following, keeping to the shadows of the tree-lined street. He rode on, cursing Kent, Hollis, and Bidamer for having left the door open after the failed ambush . . .

“He rides like he expects to be followed,” said Wes, as they kept to the shadows. “I'd say she told him we were there, with the sheriff and a search warrant.”

“Exactly what I wanted her to tell him,” Silver said. “As things now stand, we haven't a shred of real evidence against him. A slick lawyer could free him in twenty-four hours.”

“He suspects he's being followed,” said Wes. “He keeps looking back.”

“I'm counting on him knowing he's being followed,” Silver said. “He'll hire his killing done, and when it's do or die—time for him to stand up on his hind legs and be a man—he'll run like a frightened rat. But he won't go without his ill-gotten treasure, and that's when we'll get him.”

“Shankler talk,” said El Lobo. “That not be evidence?”

“In the long run, it will be,” Silver said, “but until we build a stronger case, it would only be Shankler's word against Hogan's.”

Silver, Wes, and El Lobo reined up in the shadows, well before reaching the big Hogan house. They could see Hogan in the starlight as he dismounted. He seemed to be watching, listening. Finally he led the horse around the house to the stable.

“The real test comes tomorrow,” said Silver, “when we'll have to trail him in daylight.”

“We don't know for certain that he has rented a place somewhere,” Wes said. “Could be that he pulls all the strings from where he lives.”

“That's generally not the way of criminals,” said Silver, “and almost certainly not the way of this varmint. If you'd hired as many killers as Hogan probably has, would you be satisfied having them know where you live?”

“No,” Wes said, “I reckon I wouldn't. We'd better be gettin' back to the house if we aim to get any supper.”

Silver laughed. “The kind of reception you
hombres
got, I wouldn't be surprised if Monique and Louise fed you anytime of the day or night.”

“They gave up on El Lobo and me,” said Wes. “That's why they've had their eyes on you.”

“Maybe I'll sleep in the barn with the horses,” Silver said. “One of you can holler at me if Hogan decides to ride out.”

They went in behind the house, going to the back door as Monique and Louise had suggested. Silver knocked, and after peering out around the curtain, Monique unlocked the door and allowed them to enter. The cooking and dining area were combined. Louise sat at the dining table, sipping coffee.

“I reckon we're too late for supper,” Wes said.

“Of course not,” said Louise. “It isn't often we have guests, so we waited for you. Do all of you like fried chicken?”

“Southern fried?” Wes asked.

“Southern fried,” said Monique. “Folks in New Orleans have to eat too. They don't spend all their time . . . ah . . . pursuing the ladies. Whatever else a woman becomes, she first learns to cook.”

When the meal was over, and they were down to final cups of coffee, Louise spoke.

“You haven't told us anything about how your investigation is going. That is, if we're allowed to know.”

“We kind of feel like we have a stake in this,” Monique said, “since the bunch you're after used us for bait in that ambush in Kansas City. I won't feel safe until they're shot, hanged, or locked up.”

“Neither will I,” said Louise.

“I don't know how we'd have managed to keep a close watch on this hombre, without the use of your front room,” Silver said. “Not to mention the excellent food. While it will be strictly confidential, I think you're entitled to know what progress we've made.”

Silver then told them of their visit to Madame Renae's, and of their suspicion there was a second key, possibly in the possession of Drade Hogan.

“And when you followed him,” said Louise, “he went straight to her place, didn't he?”

“That he did,” Silver said.

“This is so exciting,” said Monique. “I'm glad we're able to help. When this is all over, the three of you can stay here as long as you like. There must be something you enjoy besides chasing thieves and killers.”

“Oh, there is,” Silver said with a straight face. “We can eat Southern fried chicken any time of the day or night.”

When Silver, Wes, and El Lobo returned to their upstairs front room, they could see lamps through several windows of the Hogan house.

“Looks normal enough,” said Wes. “Maybe he's not as skittish as we think he is.”

“He's spooked, all right,” Silver said, “but not to the extent he won't get his hands on as much loot as he can before he runs.”

•   •   •

Drade Hogan kept well away from the windows. A single lamp, turned low, left most of the parlor in shadow. Hogan sat in a ladder-back chair, a loaded Winchester within his reach. On a small table beside him was a shot glass and a whiskey decanter two-thirds full. He waited impatiently for the dawn, so that he might set in motion his escape, but even the thought of that didn't raise his spirits. His only consolation was that he had personally shipped another four crates of “machinery” south, to Durango. His goal had been to escape to South America with five million dollars in gold. Now he had less than half that, thanks to their setback in California and the persistence of Bryan Silver and his gun-slinging friends.
³⁰

•   •   •

Durango, Colorado, April 17, 1885

Elias Hawk, mindful that he was leaving Hobie Denbow alone with almost a million in gold, took the train to Santa Fe one day and returned the next.

“I made arrangements for us to leave the country,” Hawk said. “Captain Antonio Diaz will do anything if the price is right. The old pirate's charging us twenty-five thousand.”

“Not bad,” said Denbow, “as long as he's floatin' that ship up here to get the gold.”

“He'll anchor in the Gulf of California,” Hawk said. “It'll be up to us to get the gold to his ship.”

“Tarnation,” said Denbow, “that must be five hunnert miles.”

“More like four hundred, travelin' across country,” Hawk said.

“I ain't trustin' nobody to haul all this gold four hunnert miles,” said Denbow.

“Neither am I,” Hawk said. “I bought us a heavy freight wagon in Santa Fe. It'll come by train, on a flat car. Then you and me will take the gold and head south.”

“I got a feeling we'd better not wait much longer,” said Denbow. “There's four more crates of machinery at the depot, waitin' for us.”

“You may be right,” Hawk said. “There's something damned suspicious about him sending four cases at a time. If these crates have gold instead of rocks, we'll have enough gold to make our move. Let's find out.”

Reaching the depot, they wrestled the four heavy cases aboard the wagon. Getting them into the hidden cavern within the mine was a frustrating, exhausting task, and it took them a while before they had the strength to attack the crates. Using the hatchet, Denbow tore the lid off the first crate, and with the hatchet's flat head, smashed the lock.

“This one's pure gold,” said Denbow, raising the lid.

Excited now, Denbow attacked the rest of the heavy wooden crates, ripping off the top of each so that he might get to the metal containers inside. Quickly he smashed all three locks and raised the lids. All three boxes contained gold double eagles.

“With these and the two that was already here,” Denbow said, “there's millions.”

“Between two and three million,” said Hawk. “Our wagon should be arriving tomorrow on the train. We'll load up and leave late at night when everybody's asleep. With luck, nobody will know we're gone until it's too late to stop us.”

Denbow laughed. “Not a bad deal for us, considerin' that all we contributed is the little gold and silver we've been able to dig.”

•   •   •

Denver, Colorado, April 17, 1885

Silver, Wes, and El Lobo were up before first light.

“Breakfast,” said Monique, knocking on their door.

Reaching the dining room, they found the table already set.

“Usually Monique and me don't get up for a couple more hours,” Louise said, “but we made an exception. Now when it gets light enough to see, you'll be ready to go.”

“We appreciate your sacrifice,” said Silver. “It's important that we don't lose sight of our man. If he's as spooked as I think he is, he's about ready to run. There's one more important step, and that's to follow him to his headquarters.”

“But if he suspects he's being followed,” Louise said, “will he go there?”

“He'll likely have no choice if he's to get his affairs in order,” said Silver.

Silver, Wes, and El Lobo didn't delay at the breakfast table, but returned to the room from which they could observe the Hogan house.

“One of us should go to the stable, saddle the horses, and bring them in behind this house,” Wes said. “If we wait for him to saddle up and ride, we may lose him.”

“I go,” said El Lobo.

“
Bueno
,” Silver said. “Get the horses back here as quickly as you can. I have an idea we'll be needing them pronto.”

Denver, Colorado, April 18, 1885

Drade Hogan had spent a sleepless night, thinking, planning, and cursing the woman who had led his enemies to him. While he had seen nobody the night before, he was now virtually certain he had been followed from Madame Renae's to his own house. Now they would trail him to his newly rented suite, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent it.

“Come on, damn you,” he growled aloud.

Hogan had no doubt that Silver and his men would be coming, but he consoled himself with the thought that it mattered not how much they knew about him, as long as they did not leave Denver alive. Today, Kent, Hollis, and Bidamer were to report to him, as was Blanton Hood. While Hogan couldn't stop Silver and his friends from following, he could surround himself with killers for hire. He finished his coffee and reached for his hat. Then he did something he hadn't done since leaving California. He buckled on a gunbelt, thonging down the holster on his right hip. Drawing the Colt, he broke it and thumbed in a sixth shell. From a closet, he took a Winchester and made sure it was fully loaded. He then stepped out the door and started around the house to saddle his horse.

“There he goes,” said Silver, watching Hogan from the upstairs window, “and he's fully armed. Where the hell is Palo with our horses?”

“He hasn't had time,” Wes said. “He'll be here by the time Hogan's ready to ride. We can wait for him out back, and it'll save him having to come up here.”

“Good thinking,” said Silver. “Come on.”

In the hall, they met Priscilla, her wet hair evidence that she had been bathing. Again she wore not a stitch, nor did she have a towel.

“None of you have come to see me,” she said. “I'm not accustomed to being ignored by men.”

“Sorry,” said Silver, “but we have women of our own, and any one of them is as well endowed as you. I reckon we can enjoy the view, but that's as far as we go.”

They left her standing naked in the hall. Reaching the back stairs they could still hear her saying some very unladylike things about men in general and a certain trio in particular. Reaching the alley behind the house, they waited. A short time later, El Lobo rode in, leading the other two horses.

“Get down,” Silver said. “We can't ride out until Hogan does.”

They peered around the corner until Drade Hogan rode out into the street. Reining up and standing in his stirrups, he looked all around before riding on.

“He knows,” said Wes.

“I want him to,” Silver replied. “I want him feeling like a trapped rat, with nothing on his mind but escape. Then he'll take us to the gold, wherever it is.”

They waited until Hogan was far down the street before following. Twice he turned and looked back.

“He see us,” said El Lobo.

“It won't matter,” Silver said. “He knew last night he was being followed. Unless he's a fool, he knows by now that we used Madame Renae and that extra key to get to him. I won't be surprised if his headquarters is surrounded by gunmen.”

“But when he leaves there, we can follow him wherever he goes,” said Wes. “When he goes after the gold, he won't feel easy with too many killers around. Tempt a gun-thrower with enough gold, and he'll forget who his friends are.”

They continued following Hogan, remaining as far behind as they dared. Eventually he reined up, dismounted, and led his horse around a brick office building.

“We won't go any closer,” Silver said. “There's bound to be a back door and a stairway. Palo, take your horse with you and watch the back door, but be careful not to allow anybody within this office building to see you.”

El Lobo rode up the street well beyond the building in question. He circled in behind, coming down an alley from the far end of the block. Dismounting, he led his horse until he was in a position to see the back of the building. There he waited, just out of sight, until Kent, Hollis, and Bidamer reined up behind the place. Each man removed from his saddle boot a Winchester, and thus armed, they entered the building by the back stairs.

“Who are you?” Hogan asked in response to the knock on his door.

“Bidamer, Hollis, and Kent,” said a voice.

Hogan unlocked the door, allowed them to enter, and then locked it behind them.

“Well, ain't we jumpy this mornin',” Kent said. “The hobgoblins been after you?”

“I am in no mood for your perverted sense of humor,” said Hogan. “The three men in question have been following me since last night. Where the hell were the three of you?”

“Checking out all the saloons,” Bidamer said. “If you expect us to become your bodyguards, it's fifty dollars a day for each of us.”

“All I want of any of you is to rid me of the three men following me,” said Hogan. “That is, if you can. Don't expect to find them lurking in the halls or in broom closets.”

“Then we'll wait until you're ready to leave here,” Bidamer said, “and we'll follow anybody that follows you.”

“I'm here for the day, and I have work to do,” said Hogan. “I strongly suspect this building is being watched. If I'm not expecting too much, will the three of you get out of here and start earning that bounty? I'll be here until five o'clock.”

“We'll look around some,” Bidamer said, “but we ain't protectin' your carcass for free. When and where we earn that bounty is our business.”

Without another word, the three departed, leaving Hogan alone with his thoughts. He looked for them to return at five but suspected until then they would spend their time in a saloon. Quickly, Hogan composed a telegram to his contact in Santa Fe. While its content would be meaningless to anyone else, a prearranged code would relay a message starting a chain of events that would allow Hogan to escape with the gold. When the heavy wagon reached Durango, a coded telegram would be sent to Hogan. Then only Hawk and Denbow stood in his way. But they could be eliminated.

•   •   •

Durango, Colorado, April 18, 1885

The canvas-topped wagon Elias Hawk had bought in Santa Fe arrived on a railroad flat car. Hawk and Denbow were there to take it away the minute it was unloaded.

“When certain people discover we're gone,” said Hawk, “somebody will remember this wagon showing up and us driving it away. We must get it away from here and out of sight as quickly as we can.”

“When Hogan gets the word, he'll know damn well we didn't need it to haul personal goods,” Denbow said. “Let's load all the stuff and get away from here tonight.”

“I think we'd better do just that,” said Hawk. “The shortest distance to the Gulf of California is cross-country to Yuma, Arizona, but we don't know the territory, and there may be some trouble getting a wagon through. We have an extra wheel and a spare rear axle.”

“My God,” Denbow said, “if we make twenty miles a day, it'll still take us almost a month. Ain't there some faster way we can go?”

“Not to get us out of the country,” said Hawk. “One month from today, Captain Diaz will anchor his sailing ship in the Gulf of California. While I was away, did you arrange to buy two more horses?”

“Yeah,” Denbow said. “Couple of miners decided they wanted mules to work their gold claims, so I arranged to buy their horses. Two hundred dollars apiece. I didn't get ‘em because I ain't paid for ‘em yet.”

“Soon as we return to the mine, take enough double eagles to get the horses,” said Hawk. “Tonight we'll load the wagon and head for Yuma.”

“What about grub for us and grain for the horses?”

“I bought adequate supplies and grain in Santa Fe,” said Hawk. “What do you think is under that wagon canvas?”

“By God, you think of everything,” Denbow said admiringly.

“I try,” said Hawk. “If we had bought supplies here in Durango, it would be something else for somebody to tell Hogan when he comes looking for us.”

When they reached the mine, Denbow took one of the horses and four hundred dollars in gold to pay for a second team. When he returned with the newly purchased horses, it was only an hour shy of sundown.

“We'd better rearrange everything in this wagon and load the gold while it's still light enough to see,” Hawk said.

“We ought to take an extra wheel off our old wagon,” said Denbow. “Just in case.”

“I doubt there'll be room,” Hawk said, “and it would add to the weight of the load. The spare that came with the new wagon will have to do.”

Hawk removed the wagon canvas, and all the supplies and sacks of grain were moved to the rear. One by one, the heavy metal containers of gold double eagles were lifted into the wagon box, near the front. When the task was finished, Hawk and Denbow were exhausted from the effort. When they had rested, they again secured the wagon canvas as tight as they could over the load. It was near midnight when they harnessed the teams to the new wagon. They returned to the tunnel for one last look around.

“Leave that door to the inner room standing partially open,” Hawk said. “When Hogan comes looking for us, I don't want him to have trouble getting in there.”

“What about them trip wires and scatterguns?” Denbow asked.

“Leave them armed,” said Hawk. “Remember the old code: Do unto others as they'd do unto you, but do it first.”

Mounting the wagon box, they left the claim in which they had labored for the metal to make Drade Hogan a wealthy man. Nothing dampened their spirits except realization of sudden death if Hogan discovered his loss and caught up to them.

•   •   •

Denver, Colorado, April 17, 1885

Shortly after Drade Hogan had sent the coded telegram to Santa Fe, there was a knock at the door.

“Who are you?” Hogan demanded, his Colt in his hand.

“Blanton Hood,” came the response. “I got to talk to you.”

Again without invitation, Hood seated himself beside Hogan's desk.

“Well,” said Hogan, eyeing him distastefully, “have you accomplished anything?”

“Yeah,” Hood replied, “I took your advice and lined up eleven gun-throwing
hombres
. Trouble is, they want some money in advance, and I ain't got it.”

“And you're expecting to get it from me,” said Hogan.

“It's that, or tell this bunch the manhunt's off, and turn ‘em loose,” Hood said.

“How much?” Hogan asked.

“I'm payin' ‘em fifty dollars a day and grub,” said Hood. “They want three days' pay in advance.”

“I'll advance you two thousand dollars,” Hogan said. “Just don't forget it comes out of any bounty money due you.”

“I ain't the forgetful kind,” said Hood. “Now tell me somethin' about these three you're wantin' salted down.”

“I've never seen them up close enough to give you a description,” Hogan said, “but the three of them have been following me since last night. I'll leave here at five, and I have no doubt they'll follow. I'm sure they're watching this building right now.”

“We'll wait until they follow you home,” said Hood. “It's too damn busy around here. Shooting would bring the law down on us pronto.”

Hood returned to the old deserted warehouse on Cherry Creek, where his assortment of killers waited. They eyed him expectantly, saying nothing.

“A hundred and fifty dollars for each of you,” Hood said, “and when we gun down the
hombres
in question, each of you will get another thousand dollars, no matter who fires the shot. Our work begins at five o'clock, and I'll expect all of you here no later than half past three.”

They trooped out, mounted their horses, and rode toward town, leaving Hood to wonder if they might just keep on riding. Except for Ginsler and Arrington, the gang consisted of the nine men remaining after Hampton, Lawton, and Damark had been locked up in the jail at Dodge.

“Well, don't look so damn whipped,” said Illivane to his disgruntled companions. “This ain't Indian Territory, but fifty dollars a day's better than nothing.”

•   •   •

“This is just one hell of a long day,” Wes said, as he and Silver continued to watch the front of the office building.

“It is, for a fact,” said Silver, “and I doubt Hogan will go anywhere until he's ready to call it a day. Why don't you find a mercantile, buy a jug, and fill it with water? Palo must be almighty thirsty, and I know I am.”

“I'll do it,” Wes said, “and I'll give Palo a slug of it before coming back here.”

Wes brought the water, spent a few minutes with El Lobo, and then joined Silver. The boring, seemingly fruitless vigil continued.

“Four o'clock,” said Silver, looking at his watch. “He should be leaving pretty soon, if only to go home.”

“Something's startin' to bother me,” Wes said. “Suppose this coyote's not as spooked as we think he is? He could wear us out without doing one damn thing illegal.”

“He could,” said Silver, “but he won't. I have a hunch he had a serious falling out with Madame Renae, and testimony from her could drop that failed ambush right into Hogan's lap. Even if nothing else goes wrong, you don't ignore a woman with a serious mad on.”

Somewhere in the distance, a tower clock struck five times, and as the tones faded and died away, Drade Hogan left the office building. His horse had been picketed in the shade of a tree, and he began saddling the animal.

“I'd better get the word to Palo,” said Wes. “I'll stay with him until Hogan rides out, and we'll join you on the back trail.”

Hogan rode out, keeping his horse at a trot and not looking back. Silver didn't follow immediately, and when he did, it was with caution.

“What did you see?” Wes asked, when he and El Lobo caught up to Silver.

“Nothing,” said Silver, “but I think the hunters may be about to become the hunted. I suspect, from Hogan's actions, we're about to be followed.”