Slocum's Silver Burden (15 page)

A shot ripped through the air, startling not only the specials but Slocum and Tamara as well.

“Who the hell're you?” Riley demanded. He swung his rifle around in the bounty hunter's direction. The small, intense man ignored the special, focused on Slocum.

“The deputy and the rest of the posse aren't too far away,” the bounty hunter said. He directed his words to Slocum again, not the specials. He had sized up his opposition well.

Slocum saw how Riley and Harry exchanged a look that meant death for the bounty hunter. Then their resolve faded when the man whipped out his second pistol and covered both men. Riley and Harry might not be too bright, but they read death in the bounty hunter's eyes.

Then the moment cracked apart, and the tension changed as the deputy galloped up with the rest of the posse trailing behind.

“You catch the robbers, Trey?”

“Think not,” the bounty hunter said. “I do think the stolen silver's up there.”

“You was spyin' on us!” Harry's outrage boiled over. He lifted his rifle, ignoring Trey leveling both pistols on him.

“I'm U.S. Deputy Marshal Ford, and I'm ordering you to lower that rifle. Do it now or die on the spot.”

“He's a lawman, Harry. Don't cross him.” Riley pushed his partner's rifle down.

“Uh, Riley, they's gonna take the silver.”

“We are returning it to the railroad. Mr. Collingswood's personal representatives will vouch for us.” The deputy cast a hard look at Slocum for the briefest instant before lingering on Tamara. “We can have the silver moved and loaded on the afternoon train and back in a vault before nightfall.”

“We can take custody of the silver, if you prefer, Deputy Ford.” Tamara turned on all her charm, but Slocum saw that the lawman was impervious to it now that the silver was within reach.

“You aren't in line for any reward, ma'am, not if your salary's being paid by the railroad. The men riding with me depend on that reward to make their sacrifice of time and life worthwhile.”

“What 'bout us? We was hired to find the silver,” protested Riley. “We're paid, jist like you, Deputy, but there was supposed to be a reward. And we was the ones what found where the robbers hid the damned silver.”

“He poses a good question. What about it, ma'am?”

Slocum cut in before Tamara could speak.

“If Riley and Harry returned with the silver, there's no reason why Mr. Collingswood wouldn't personally give them the reward promised.”

The two specials exchanged looks. Harry started to argue, but Riley cut him off with a hand motion like chopping wood.

“We kin guard the silver 'gainst another robbery,” Riley said. “That suit you fellows?”

“It is an admirable solution. You and the posse can all collect your reward. Be sure to tell Mr. Collingswood that I approved the payment.”

“You aren't going back with the silver?” The deputy pinned Tamara with his gimlet stare.

“Mr. Slocum and I are tending to railroad business away from San Francisco.”

“What business is that?” Deputy Ford refused to let the matter drop.

“When you talk to Mr. Collingswood, he will tell you, if he sees fit to divulge such things to someone outside the company.”

Slocum almost laughed at Tamara's response. It was perfect. He had been quick enough to force Riley and Harry back to San Francisco and out of their hair while they hunted for the rest of the silver. Jackson's was lost and now Montague's share was on its way back to the railroad's coffers. Half the silver was still hidden and waiting to be found.

Waiting to be found by him and Tamara.

“Yup, Trey, this is the shipment.” A posse member poked his head out of a shallow cave and held up a dull silver bar. “Couple hundred of these in here.”

“That's the railroad's stolen shipment,” Tamara said hurriedly. She left the impression it was all that had been stolen.

“All right, boys. Each of you take a bar in turn until it's all gone. I'll be counting so don't you figure on taking one or two for your troubles. The reward's going to be your payment.”

Slocum and Tamara watched from the top of a boulder as the posse moved the bars out. Slocum saw Tamara's lips moving as she counted. Of everyone here, she knew the exact number of silver bars stolen, from the report given to Collingswood.

“You sure you don't want to catch that train and ride back to San Francisco?”

“Thanks, Deputy, but we're on other business,” Slocum said.

“I'll mention you and the lady,” Deputy Ford said. “Straight to that vice president.”

“Tell Mr. Collingswood I'll complete the railroad business within the week and be back at my desk soon,” Tamara said.

Slocum watched the lawman's reaction. Ford remained skeptical, but Trey ran his fingers nervously over the butts of his six-shooters. Nothing Tamara had said convinced the bounty hunter, but staying with the silver outweighed everything else.

Riley and Harry trailed the posse, arguing over what to do. Slocum caught snippets of their dispute. Then the posse, specials, and silver disappeared around the bend in the canyon. He waited a few more minutes before saying to Tamara, “They won't go back with the silver. They know this isn't the entire shipment.”

“Those two are smarter than they look, then. I counted the bars. This was a quarter of the entire shipment. They want to get rid of the posse and keep looking for the rest.”

“Just like us,” Slocum said.

“Half is lost to us. What do you think about Baldy and Drury and their shares?”

Slocum sucked on his teeth as he considered the matter. While Montague had occupied him most recently, the other two outlaws presented a different problem.

“Might be they stored their cut together,” he said. “Drury isn't able to make off with as much silver as Ford and his posse took away from the cave. With help from Baldy, he could take his share.”

“Opium saps a man's strength. I saw how he looked, all pale and shaking. Drury is closer to death than life.”

“I wouldn't put it past Baldy to try to steal all of it, but the two might be real partners. From what I saw back in Newburg, Baldy's not going to double-cross him.”

“Half of a mountain is a whale of a lot of silver, John. Where do we look?”

“The specials trailed Baldy and Drury but found Montague's silver,” he said, thinking aloud. “The two outlaws lost them somewhere. I don't know Baldy, but Drury wasn't feebleminded. While he was all hopped up, he played poker with a vengeance and only lost because he was being cheated by a pair of gamblers working together.”

“That's not so bright,” Tamara said, scowling.

“He thinks he has an unlimited supply of silver bars.”

Slocum touched the one still riding in his pocket and felt mixed emotions. He thrilled at being this rich after so many months of being down on his luck, but greed intruded itself. If he found the outlaws' cache, he would be richer than any but the titans of industry and railroad in San Francisco.

“Riley and Harry aren't going back to San Francisco, are they?”

Slocum shook his head. Somehow, they'd try to get their cut of the reward for finding Montague's cache, but the lure of the remaining loot had to be overwhelming. Slocum knew what he felt, and he wasn't a greedy man. Or not as greedy as those two. And Tamara. Her eyes shone like tiny suns whenever she spoke of the silver.

“They'll let Ford and the others escort the silver they found back to San Francisco and keep looking for the robbers.”

“And the silver,” Tamara finished.

Slocum stepped up into the saddle and waited for Tamara to mount. Without a word he rode off, with her trotting behind as he went directly to the railroad tracks. This stretch had seen more traffic on horseback than it had from engines and the attached cars rattling along its length. As he neared the rails, the ground began shaking. He stopped and pointed. He and Tamara watched as the train from Virginia City struggled to make a turn and then start up the steep grade to the summit.

The engineer leaned out of the cab, spotted the posse ahead, and barked orders to his brakeman. Not having to throw coal into the boiler, the brakeman leaned out to see what the engineer already had.

“What a terrible job,” Tamara said. “Straining to shovel coal or wood all day, covered in soot and blasted by heat from the boiler.”

“Robbing a train is easier,” Slocum allowed. Tamara looked at him, startled, then laughed.

“Let's hope we can profit from the crimes of others.”

Slocum agreed. The train ground a halt amid sparks flying from its steel wheels. The cars were hidden from view, but Slocum heard Deputy Ford and the posse begin loading the silver into a freight car, then joining their metallic treasure by jumping their horses in. When the screeching of steel against steel warned of the departure, Slocum kicked at his mare's flanks and got onto the tracks behind the train.

“Did the specials board, too?” Tamara asked.

“They aren't waiting alongside the tracks. That must mean they are taking the road along the cliff where Montague took a header.”

“Do we follow or head them off?” Tamara looked behind them, in the direction of the canyon where the silver had been discovered. “Backtracking means the same scenery as before. Frankly, I am sick of this part of the mountains along the tracks.”

“We were thorough,” Slocum said. “Let's go farther down the tracks and take a branch neither Jackson nor Montague rode. We can camp and wait for Riley and Harry.”

“If we miss them like you did Montague and the wagon? What then?”

Slocum's anger flared a moment. He tamped it down. Not seeing the abandoned wagon had been careless, but Montague had been spurred to take desperate action.

“Then we have to work harder to outthink them,” he said. “That shouldn't be too hard.”

“No, it shouldn't,” Tamara said, her gaze lingering on him.

Slocum trotted along the tracks until he found a decent-sized canyon leading to the south. Montague had taken the first one to the north and Jackson had gone farther east before turning north to hide his silver. If Baldy and Drury were heavily burdened and the hophead wasn't doing his share of the work, this canyon made sense.

Slocum rode along, studying the walls. The canyon floor was U-shaped rather than cut into a deep V like the others. He didn't see as many potential hiding places here.

“John, look.”

He had concentrated so much on hiding places that he had neglected to watch where they rode. Tamara had found a fresh pile of horse manure. From the flies and way it had only partly hardened, the horse responsible for leaving it behind couldn't be more than a half hour ahead.

“It's not the specials,” Slocum said. “They'd be behind us unless they're riding Fourth of July rockets.”

Tamara caught her breath. They were closing in on the outlaws or another posse. Collingswood had sent out as many men as he could to recover the shipment. But which of all those groups rode ahead of them?

“Can you tell from the tracks how many riders there are?”

“The rocky ground makes it hard to identify hoofprints,” Slocum admitted. “There might be three or four.”

Gunshots rang out ahead of them. Slocum made a quick decision.

“Stay back, let me see what's happening.”

“Like hell I will!”

Tamara galloped ahead, forcing Slocum to match her pace. He bent low and tried to look ahead even as he watched the ground flying by under his mare's hooves. By the time the shooting stopped, he still had no idea how many men they'd face.

“Tamara, wait!” He pulled his horse to a halt amid flying stones and sparks of horseshoes grating against rock. “I need to scout. Stay with the horses.”

He tossed her his reins and hit the ground, stumbled, and caught himself to rush forward. She cursed him but remained behind. He knew they would die if they blundered ahead and found themselves facing another posse. Rapid gunfire followed by silence meant the fight had been fierce and ended abruptly. Someone might have surrendered, but he doubted that. More likely, someone lay stretched out dead on the ground.

Moving low, Slocum worked his way forward through a stand of trees until he found a meadow on the far side. He dropped to his belly and waited for ten minutes to see if anyone stirred. When he saw no sign of life, he crept forward until the acrid stink of gun smoke made his nostrils flare. Sniffing, he homed in on the spot where the gunfight had been. The air was deathly still and a quirk of the canyon walls held the odor in place, waiting for a brisk wind to send it on its way.

A body lay facedown at the edge of a pond. Slocum drew his six-gun and went forward. He didn't see anyone else. Whoever had shot the man had fled. When he got close enough, he saw that Baldy wasn't going to spill his guts about the silver's hiding place. He had already spilled his guts after a dozen bullets had ripped into his belly.

Slocum went to the pond, dipped his finger in it, and sniffed. No sulfur. A quick taste showed him it was sweet water. He plunged his head into the water. Refreshed, he pulled back and shook like a dog, then scooped up the water to kill his thirst.

The sounds of horses didn't surprise him. Tamara hadn't obeyed. She rode straight for him, his mare trotting along behind.

“That's one of the robbers,” she said rather than asked.

“Baldy.”

“Who killed him?”

“It had to be Riley and Harry. They must have made an excuse to Ford and ridden off before we got there.”

“So they didn't circle back along the cliff where Montague died?”

“Two riders, three horses.” Slocum pointed to the south where they had ridden.

“They wouldn't have killed him unless they knew where he had stashed the silver.” Tamara dropped to the ground and knelt by the pond, delicately splashing water on her face and neck rather than plunging her head in the way Slocum had.