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Authors: Wesley Ellis

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BOOK: The Railroad War
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Ki was sitting beside the window on the right-hand side of the coach, Jessie on the left side, and since there were no other passengers, Bobby was occupying the seat facing them so that he could slide from window to window and watch whatever interested him in the area through which they were passing.
Ki's interest had been caught by the activity in the supply yard. He saw a big flatbed wagon, piled high with a load of crossties, pull out of a loading area just ahead of the stagecoach and start for the road, and he noticed that it was being drawn by a team of horses instead of the more usual mules or oxen. He wondered why, then some other movement elsewhere in the yard caught his eye and he looked away from the wagon.
His attention was drawn back to the horsedrawn freightwagon by the flickering whip the teamster on its seat was wielding. The loaded wagon was moving along one of the lanes that had been left between the heaps of supplies at right angles to the road, to give the freightwagons access and loading space. In spite of its heavy load, the wagon was gaining speed rapidly, and the distance between it and the road was not great.
Ki wondered how the teamster was going to turn his horses into the road at such a speed, and instinct led him to gauge the distance between the team and the road. Experience told him instantly that unless the teamster reined in, the wagon and the stagecoach would reach the intersection at the same time.
Ki watched as the gap narrowed, but the teamster still did not pull in. Instead, he whipped his horses to a faster pace. Ki realized then that he had no time to waste. The freighter was obviously intending to drive full-tilt into the stagecoach, and apparently the man handling the stagecoach reins had not noticed the danger looming ahead.
“Jessie! Bobby!” Ki called. “Grab the catch-straps and hang on!”
Without waiting to see whether they followed his order, Ki thrust his head and shoulders out of the stagecoach window and got his feet on the seat. He levered his body up until he was half inside and half outside the vehicle, his arms stretching up its side while his hands groped for a hold on the baggage rack on the coach's roof. He got a precarious grip on the rail and hauled himself up. The stagecoach driver turned in his seat, gaping at Ki's sudden appearance.
Ki had no time to explain to the driver. He was swaying back and forth, still on his knees, trying to keep his balance on top of the swaying, jouncing coach and at the same time get on his feet. The freightwagon was near the intersection now, only a dozen yards separating the lead horses from the stagecoach.
Suddenly the freightwagon's teamster hauled on the off-rein, causing his team to veer sharply to the right, out of the path of the stage. As soon as the team began turning, he released the reins and yanked sharply at a rope he'd been holding.
Ki saw the linchpin that held the wagon tongue to the axle fly through the air at the rope's end. The teamster jumped from his seat, rolling to lessen the jolt of his landing as he hit the ground. The driverless wagon kept moving swiftly ahead, a massive juggernaut now only a few feet away from the stagecoach and rolling at high speed with its heavy load of wooden ties.
With only seconds to spare, Ki found his balance atop the stagecoach. Leaning forward, he stretched out one hand to grab the reins from the stagecoach driver while, with the other hand, he pulled the long tasseled whip from its socket and lashed the backs of the stage horses with quick, flailing strokes.
Stung and surprised, the team responded to Ki's frantic lashing with a mighty jump. The high-bodied coach swayed and tilted and almost overturned, but the team's final frantic jump had pulled it clear. The freightwagon thundered past behind it, missing the stage by inches.
Careening ahead, the wagon rolled across the road and, with a thunderous impact and a splintering of boards, crashed into the front of a saloon in Hell on Wheels.
Ki did not turn his head to see the effects of the crash. He had dropped the whip and was sawing on the reins with both hands, trying to pull up the panicked team, which the noise of the crash had spooked even worse than had his whiplashing.
For a few moments the fate of the stagecoach was uncertain, but Ki managed to stay on his feet and keep a firm pressure on the reins, and the horses at last responded to the familiar command. They calmed down and finally came to a halt.
Ki tossed the reins to the dumbfounded driver. “Just hold them at a stand!” he shouted, his eyes fixed on the freighter who'd been handling the freightwagon, and who was just getting to his feet.
Launching himself from the top of the stage, Ki flexed his legs to absorb the shock of his landing and started running for the man who'd tried to crash his wagon into the stagecoach. The teamster saw him coming and whipped out his sheath knife. He spread his legs and dropped into the crouch that experienced knife-fighters favor, holding the nine-inch blade low, weaving it at waist level in a series of figure-eights.
Ki was armed with his own knife, but he left the slender, curved blade in its waistband sheath. He was confident that his skill with a blade was equal or superior to that of the man who stood waiting for him, but Ki wanted to do more than merely take his opponent alive; he wanted to humiliate the man by defeating him without using a weapon.
“You better back away before you get hurt, Chink,” the freighter said tauntingly. When Ki came on without hesitating, the man added, “All right, yellowbelly! I warned you once! Now you got no excuse when I slice you up in little pieces!”
Giving no indication that he'd heard the teamster's warning, Ki pressed on. The freighter lunged at him, bringing his knife up in a slashing thrust, its point aimed at Ki's abdomen.
Ki turned his body an instant before the blade reached him, and instead of reversing his turn to face his adversary, he spun around with dazzling speed and at the same time brought down the edge of his hand with a slashing stroke that landed on the freighter's forearm just above the wrist, where sensitive nerves lie across the bone with no protective sheath of muscle tissue.
His arm numbed by the blow, the teamster opened his hand involuntarily. His knife fell to the ground while Ki's body was still only halfway through its turn.
As he spun around on his right foot. Ki extended his left leg, bringing his foot up to shoulder height and snapping his heel forward just as he completed the turn. Ki delivered his kick with the force of a bludgeon, and heard the evidence that it had struck its intended target when the man's collarbone broke with a loud pop.
For a second or two, while the teamster began crumpling to the ground, his arm dangling uselessly, Ki stood with his leg still upraised, watching the mingled look of pain and surprise that contorted his attacker's face. Then he lowered his foot and stood with his arms quietly at his side, looking down at the writhing form of the man who, a few seconds earlier, had threatened to slice him into small pieces.
Few of the men working in the supply yard had seen the brief encounter between Ki and the teamster. Their attention had been caught by the smashing of the freightwagon into the front of the saloon, and they were just now dropping whatever work they'd been doing and running to the scene of the crash. Ki glanced at the man on the ground, decided that he would be unable to stand for the next few minutes, and after kicking the knife out of reach of his defeated assailant, he walked over to the stagecoach.
Jessie and Bobby, shaken and tossed inside the careening vehicle, were just getting out of the coach. The driver still sat in his seat, a look of dazed surprise on his face. Jessie raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.
“Yes,” Ki said simply. “It's started.”
“I was sure it had, when I saw that teamster deliberately trying to wreck us,” she said. “You didn't take the time to ask him any questions, I noticed.”
“No. It'll be a few minutes before he feels like talking, and I wanted to be sure you were all right.”
“A little shaken, but nothing more,” Jessie said. “Bobby, how about you?”
“I'm fine, Miss Jessie,” Bobby replied. “Do you really think that man was trying to hurt us? That it wasn't just an accident?”
“I'm afraid so, Bobby,” Jessie said. “I haven't told you everything that's involved in this situation you and your grandfather have gotten into. I wanted to wait until we got to the valley. Would you mind if I don't explain until then?”
“No. I guess not, Miss Jessie. But if it wasn't an accident, how'd he know we was going to be on the stage?”
Ki answered him before Jessie could speak. “Word travels fast on a telegraph, Bobby. And there's only one stage running into Hidden Valley. But Jessie and your grandfather will explain everything to you. Right now we've got to do something about that man who tried to wreck us.”
“What do you think we should do, Ki?” Jessie asked. “I've been thinking about him myself.”
Ki shrugged. “I'm sure he won't have anything to say, when we do question him.”
“Let's take him to the construction office, then,” Jessie suggested. “Though I don't imagine for a minute that the South Sierra Railway superintendent will be any more helpful than your friend here.”
Leaving Bobby at the stage, Jessie and Ki walked over to the teamster. He was sitting up now, rubbing his face with one hand, his other arm dangling and useless.
“All right,” Ki said harshly. “Get on your feet. We're going to see what your boss has to say about what you tried to do to us a minute ago.”
“I didn't do a damn thing!” the teamster snarled. “You can't go blaming a man because his team runs away!”
“You tried to kill us,” Jessie said coldly. “And they put men like you in jail for attempted murder.”
“You'll have to prove it!” the man replied. “And there ain't no way you'll be able to do that!”
Ki picked up the knife that he'd kicked aside. “We'll talk to your boss first. Now march! And don't try to run, or I'll give you a chance to feel how sharp this blade really is!”
Chapter 4
Both Jessie and Ki found that their predictions had been correct. The superintendent of the construction job listened without trying to hide his lack of interest as they described the deliberate attempt to wreck the stagecoach. When they'd finished, he looked at the teamster for a moment and shook his head.
“I never saw this man before,” he said coolly. “I hope you understand that the South Sierra Railway doesn't hire teamsters. We've contracted the hauling work to a firm in San Francisco.”
“If that's the case, you're not responsible for any accidents they cause, are you?” Ki asked. The tone of his voice was so gentle that it was almost sarcastic, but he looked guilelessly at the superintendent as he asked the question.
Ignoring Ki, the superintendent said to Jessie, “As I understand your story, Miss Starbuck, you and your companions in the stagecoach weren't actually in an accident. I don't deny there was an accident, you understand, but it occurred across the road when the freightwagon hit the saloon, and took place after the wagon had already passed by the stage without touching it.”
“Technically he's right, Ki,” Jessie said quickly.
“I'm glad you agree, Miss Starbuck,” the man said. “Now I suggest that you overlook the dispute this teamster had with your man. Leave this for me to settle. I'll see that the company the man works for disciplines him and pays for the damages to the saloon building.”
Ki frowned and began, “Just a moment—”
Jessie broke in quickly, “Never mind, Ki. Come along. I'm sure the best thing we can do is to leave the teamster here and let the superintendent and the contractor handle things.”
Walking back to the stagecoach, Ki asked Jessie, “Why were you in such a hurry to get away, Jessie? I'd like to have argued with that superintendent a little bit.”
“We'd have gotten nowhere, Ki. You could see by the way he acted that he knew the accident had been planned, and he had all the answers ready.”
“He was glib enough,” Ki agreed. “And I'm sure he was telling the truth when he said the freighting was contracted by the railroad to another company, but I'm equally sure the other company's also one controlled by the cartel.”
“Yes, of course.” Jessie was silent while they walked a few steps, and then she said, “Not that we had any doubts, but this proves the cartel is behind the railroad, Ki.”
“Did we really need any proof?”
Jessie shook her head. “No. But this shows us that what we've got to do now is strike them before they can get ready to attack us again, and keep on hitting them until we win!”
 
BOOK: The Railroad War
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