Talon & Chantry 07 - North To The Rails (v5.0) (19 page)

“Things are very different out here, sir.” He indicated the street. “Every man out there carries a gun. I expect you’ve heard some shooting.” He hesitated. “There are several men out there, and at least one woman, who want to kill me.”

He could see they did not believe him. “That’s silly!” Doris said. “Why would—” She broke off. “Tom, you’re serious. You mean it.”

“Yes, I do.”

“A Mr. Sparrow told me something of the sort,” Earnshaw said, “but it all seemed rather melodramatic.”

“Mr. Sparrow,” Chantry replied, “is a businessman. He is a cattleman and a rancher, and from all I gather, a very successful one.”

“He is certainly interested in you,” Earnshaw commented. “He assured me you were quite a remarkable young man.”

“But we knew that, didn’t we, Papa?”

Earnshaw studied him. “You’ve changed, Chantry. I don’t know what it is about you.”

“I’ve survived, that’s what it is. I think periods of change are rather drastic out here, as compared with what happens in the East.”

When Earnshaw had retired to the sleeping compartments Doris came closer. “Tom, you mentioned a woman. What is she like?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I actually met her only once, and we weren’t exactly introduced. I don’t even know her last names her first name is Sarah. She is here in town, I hear, and she seems to believe that my death would be advantageous. My advice to you is to keep your door locked at all times. Don’t let anyone in unless you know them well.”

He paused a moment. “Dons, your father mentioned a quick sale. Whom did he have in mind?”

“Colonel Enright. His car is right behind ours. He is here to buy beef, and he will pay cash…in gold.”

Chantry sat on the edge of the plush sofa, his hat in his hand. He was restless and uneasy. Was it the sudden change of surroundings? Was it only that he needed a bath, a change of clothes? Or was it the knowledge that out there in the dark trouble awaited him, trouble he could not avoid.

Slowly, almost thinking out loud, he reviewed for Doris all that had happened. When he had finished, she said, “What will she do now? You have the cattle here. You are alive, and possibly Mr. Williams is alive too. So what can she do?”

“If you were she, what would you do?”

She answered quickly. “I’d go for the money. When you sell the cattle, I’d steal the money.”

He considered that. Until now Sarah had been working to inherit the cattle and sell the herd herself, and she had balked at nothing…nothing at all.

Yes, he agreed reluctantly, she would steal the money. She would do just what Doris had suggested.

He knew what the trouble was, for he had a touch of it himself. There was a feeling here that this was somehow out of the world, that what one did in the West belonged only to the West, and when one left, it could be left behind. Of course, that was not true. But…hadn’t it been true for some people?

So many of them had that idea. They came to get rich and get out.

Chapter 20

W
HEN HE LEFT the private car, Tom Chantry moved quickly to the shadow of a pile of lumber. There, crouching in the darkness, he waited and watched.

He had been in the West only a short time, but it was true that circumstances had changed him. He had grown more watchful, less trusting of people or appearances. He had enemies of whom he knew little except that they seemed prepared to stop at nothing. He had some friends, but he could not feel entirely sure who were friends and who were enemies. He would do well to play out his hand as if he were alone, and without help.

Undoubtedly Earnshaw wanted to make a quick deal, a quick profit that would put him on his feet once more. Then there could be the purchase and shipment of a second herd that would launch him into business again. That made sense, and this was the place to do it.

But Sarah was in town, and she had with her the Talrims, who killed without qualm or hesitation. Apparently she had also established a working arrangement with the killers of his father. These were his enemies, persons to whom his death seemed a necessity.

The area covered by the town, even with the scattered piles of building materials, corrals, and freight cars, was small, and his enemies would be moving in and around that area; there was small chance of avoiding them. He must locate their headquarters, for there had to be a focal point.

He thought of Mobile Callahan, who had helped him, paid to do so by Sparrow…why? For the time being he would dismiss that, while keeping it in the back of his mind. No matter what the motive, this did not present any immediate danger.

Bone McCarthy was, he believed, still working for him. Of Sun Chief there had been no sign, and it seemed likely that he had been killed in the stampede. And where was French Williams? Knowing the man, Chantry was sure he would not give up without a fight.

Crouching and waiting to see if he had been followed, or if anyone was watching the car, he considered his situation.

Sparrow’s warning had been a good one. He must avoid further shooting if possible. What he had to do was simple enough. He must bring the sale of the cattle to Colonel Enright to a conclusion, get the money into Earnshaw’s hands, effect the purchase and shipment of a second bunch of cattle, and then get out.

Though a move now against the herd was possible, it was unlikely. Doris’ conclusion, he felt sure, was the right one. Sarah would be apt to make an attempt to get the purchase price into her hands. So…the car must be guarded against any such attempt.

He must get Enright and Earnshaw together at once, and effect the sale and the transfer of money. And then he had to find a herd of cattle available for purchase within a reasonable distance of the railroad.

All this he had to do while avoiding trouble with any of his enemies. He was going to need eyes in the back of his head.

Sarah would wait until she found out the payment had been made for the cattle, and she would keep the Talrims in check until then…at least, that was the way he saw it. With him out of the way, the whole affair might be moved along quickly.

He straightened up and went around a tent and between two piles of lumber to the street. He stopped there, scanning the street carefully.

It was likely that this town was only temporary. This was for a brief time the end of the tracks, and when they built them on west, the town itself would move too. Everything here was set up to be torn down. The camp of the construction workers was a mile further west even now; but the whiskey, the women, and the gambling were still here.

The street was scarcely two hundred yards long, with frequent gaps. There were occasional piles of lumber, stacks of goods covered with tarpaulins, wagons drawn up, back end to the street. At least fifty men were walking or standing along the street, most of them only dark figures, and any one of them might be an enemy. The tents and shacks were jammed to the doors with men.

Chantry waited a moment, then crossed the street and made his way back to the herd.

Bone McCarthy was squatting by the fire. “Gettin’ worried about you, boss. I nigh come a-huntin’ you.”

“Who’s out there?”

“Four cowhands from town. All of ’em busted and glad for the work. Good men, too. I punched cows with two of ’em down on the Brazos one time.”

“Bone, I want you to guard that private car where Earnshaw and his daughter are.” He explained the situation, and added, “There’s just the two of them and a man named Whitman. He’s out here for the railroad, and the private car is his. I don’t expect any trouble until the gold is transferred from Enright to Earnshaw. I understand that Enright has a couple of tough railroad detectives guarding his car on the inside.”

“Have you seen French?”

“No.”

Bone filled his cup. “Worries me, that does. It ain’t like him to give up.”

With the cattle guarded and Bone McCarthy taking over the job of watching over Earnshaw and Doris, Chantry had made his first move in the events that were shaping up.

He left McCarthy and went to the general store, where he bought a new outfit, with several extra shirts and pairs of pants. He selected a new pistol, oiled it well, and tried the balance. He loaded his belt with cartridges, filling all the empty loops, and then, carrying his purchases, he went to the barber shop, where he got a shave and a haircut. He went back to the private car and asked for the use of the bath. He scrubbed and soaked, and came out wearing fresh clothes and feeling clean for the first time in days.

When he glanced outside the car window there was no one in sight. A minute later Colonel Enright appeared with Earnshaw.

“I’ve been looking at your cattle, young man. They’re in good shape. I’d buy another herd of the same size at the same price.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Chantry said.

Then they discussed the price, and it was finally settled at twenty-two dollars per head—more than he had expected, much more than Sarah had hoped for. In round numbers it came to forty-five thousand dollars in gold.

“You’ll have to come and get it,” Enright said, and added, “Once that gold is out of my hands it is your responsibility—and if I were you I’d have myself ready for trouble.”

“We’ll be all right,” Earnshaw said. “I don’t expect any trouble.”

Chantry walked out on the brass-railed observation platform. Bone McCarthy was loitering nearby and he strolled over.

“You stay where you are, Bone,” Chantry said. “Keep an eye on things and don’t let anybody get behind you.”

“All right.”

Chantry went back inside. “Doris, keep the door of the car locked while we’re gone, but be prepared to open it quickly to get your father inside.”

“Do you think they will try to steal the gold?”

“You figured it out last night—remember? I think you were right.”

They talked quietly, and of many things, but always his ears were alert for other sounds. Earnshaw came from the inner room and stood waiting.

Chantry looked up. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“It might be safer to wait until daylight.”

“They wouldn’t attempt a robbery right here in the middle of everything. I think we’re safe enough, Tom. Let’s go.”

Reluctantly, Chantry got to his feet. He opened the door. “Excuse me,” he said, and stepped out first.

All was quiet. On the street, perhaps sixty yards away, there were the usual sounds. Occasionally a wild cowboy yell would leap from the jumble of sound and hang in air for an instant.

A dozen yards away was a pile of lumber, and beyond it, much further off, were several boxcars and tents. Tom went down the steps facing forward, and stepped off. There was no sign of Bone McCarthy, but he had expected none. Earnshaw came down the steps after him and together they walked back beside the track to Enright’s car.

Inside it was just as ornate as the other. Two tough-looking eastern men loafed in the drawing room with a pair of shotguns across the table before them. They had been playing checkers.

At a call from one of them, Enright came from the sleeping room, bringing a sack of gold. He returned for another, then made more trips until there were eight sacks in all.

“That’s a fair load,” he said. “You’ll have to make more than one trip.”

Chantry liked none of it. One trip, loaded down with gold, was bad enough, but several? With each step the odds piled up against them, and no matter what they carried each man must keep one hand free to use a gun.

He glanced at the two guards. “You two want to help? We’ll pay you.”

One man shook his head. “Mister, I’ve got a family back in St. Louis. I wouldn’t stick my head out of that door with a sack of gold for anything on earth.”

“Nor me,” said the other. “Guarding inside of this car is one thing. The Colonel here, he’s got steel plates in the sides of this car. He’s ready for anything that happens. From in here we could stand off an army, but outside there in the dark? Mister, maybe I’m not very bright, but I’m not crazy, either.”

“Besides,” he added, “we’ve heard all the talk. I’d like to help you, but I just can’t see my way clear to committing suicide.”

Earnshaw stared at them, then he looked at Tom. For the first time he appeared to realize the gravity of the situation. “Is it that bad?” he asked.

“Mr. Earnshaw,” Chantry said, “out there tonight in that cluster of shacks and tents are perhaps a hundred men who have committed every crime in the books. They come here to prey on the track-workers, but they’ll grab anything that’s loose. Aside from them, there are at least two groups who feel they should have this money. One of them has already killed men in the process of trying to steal the cattle. They are not in town just to have a little recreation.”

“It’s only a few yards,” Earnshaw said. “We’ll move it now.”

Chantry bent over and looked out of the car windows. All was dark and silent. There was a faint glow of light from the windows of the car they were in, and he could see light from the other private car further along the track. There might be any number of men hidden out there, and they could remain invisible until they opened fire.

“We’ll cover you from the door,” one of the guards volunteered, “but that will help for only a few yards.”

Chantry picked up two of the sacks and slung them over his left shoulder. In his right hand he carried his gun. Earnshaw took two sacks and they stepped out of the door.

Chantry went down the car’s steps and dropped off to the dirt. This was, he felt, the crucial moment. Nothing happened.

He moved out, gun ready, and waited until Earnshaw reached the ground. With Earnshaw close behind him, he started for the other car.

T
HREE HOURS EARLIER, and a few hundred yards from town on the bank of the Arkansas, three big men got down from their horses, tied them to brush, and descended a steep path to the door of a dugout in the river’s bank.

The door of the dugout was above the water-level and some distance back from the river’s edge, but the dugout had been the work of some optimist who was ignorant of western rivers. The Arkansas in flood was far from being the placid stream that now flowed along not far from the door. In flood it was another story; at the first high water the dugout would be flooded, washed out and away. At the moment, four people sat inside awaiting the arrival of the three big men.