by Brett Waring
“I can see, I can see,” growled Tyler irritably. “Hell, you damn idiot, they’re makin’ a travois. Injun thing for carryin’ their wounded or their dead to the burial grounds ...” He lowered the glasses slowly, his mouth tightening. “No wonder that rider come in like a Texas twister. You know who that is, Trace? It’s Clay Nash.”
“The trouble-shooter from Wells Fargo?” asked Tyler, surprised. “Aw, hell, yeah, he must be workin’ on the train robbery. But how the hell did he get a lead on Bonney ...?”
“Likely through him sellin’ broncs to the old man. Don’t matter, anyway. But I tell you, pard, we’re lucky we got out with whole skins. Nash is hell on two feet ...”
He got the glasses up to his eyes again and they took it in turns watching over the next half hour while Nash and the girl hitched the triangle of saplings to a horse, then carried Cress Bonney out and laid him out on blankets slung in the frame.
The girl gently covered her husband with more blankets and went back into the house. When she emerged again, she was wearing a checked shirt, baggy denim britches and a hat. She carried a shotgun as Nash helped her mount one of the corral horses.
Nash brought out the manacled Cody Mann and helped him aboard his mount, before getting astride his own horse.
Liz Bonney took the reins of the horse pulling the travois and Nash rode slightly behind as the sapling ‘arms’ made twin furrows in the yard when the horse started moving out. Cody Mann rode alongside Nash.
“They’re headin’ towards town,” Wyatt said.
Tyler lowered the glasses and frowned.
“Goddamnit! They’re takin’ Bonney in. Nash’s got Cody Mann manacled. They ain’t botherin’ about the hole-in-the-wall.”
“Looks like Bonney never got to tell his wife about it,” said Wyatt.
Tyler looked at him grimly. “Or Old Man Jarvess never told Bonney about it in the first place.”
“Then why did they hide his body? No, I reckon Jarvess told Bonney all right—but you nailed Bonney so bad he ain’t had a chance to tell his wife. Now what d’we do, Red?”
Tyler sat on the rock, the field glasses hanging limply from his hands. “Damned if I know. I figured they’d head for the breaks right away to get the gold. Ain’t no use us goin’ anywhere near town ... Looks like we got to try to locate that damn hidey-hole ourselves, Trace.”
“Well? how the hell we gonna do that?”
“We sure ain’t got much to go on,” Tyler admitted, “but we do know it’s only a half-day’s ride from the cave. Guess we better start from there, an’ try to backtrack. It’s possible McGovern might’ve managed to leave some sort of sign.”
Wyatt scowled. Obviously he didn’t hold out much hope of success, but what else did they have to go on ...?
Nash had brought Cody Mann’s manacled hands around to his front so he could help carry Bonney into the Cannon Creek Infirmary. Liz Bonney had ridden on ahead and alerted the doctors.
Two doctors—the town’s only two—were waiting with a nurse and a burly male helper when Nash steered the travois arrangement into the Infirmary grounds.
The Wells Fargo man stood to one side while Cody took Bonney’s feet and the helper grabbed his shoulders. Pale faced, Liz walked alongside, gently wiping her husband’s pale, sweating face.
“That travois was a good idea, whoever thought of it,” one of the doctors said. “It’s less bumpy than any buckboard I know an’ I’d say he travelled in as much comfort as it was possible to give him.”
“It was his wife’s idea,” Nash said and hurried inside after Cody Mann and the wardsman. He was just in time to see Mann slipping out a side door as Bonney was being wheeled into the ward on a stretcher.
The Wells Fargo man lunged out towards the side door.
His gun came out of leather and the hammer made a chilling, audible sound as it clicked back to full cock.
“Hold it, Cody.”
The outlaw froze then slowly lifted his manacled hands and turned to face Nash with a crooked grin.
“Door was open,” he said somewhat disarmingly.
Nash couldn’t help but smile. “You’re a trier, Cody, I got to give you that.”
“Like I said, an opportunist. But listen, Nash, you din’t mean that about handin’ me over to the local law, did you?”
“What d’you think?”
“Aw, hell, what good’s that gonna do? I mean, the sheriff here don’t know me from spit. He’ll hold me, sure, ’cause you tell him to, while you’re off up in the hills gettin’ yourself killed. Well, what’s he gonna do with me when you don’t come back, huh? I mean, he might wait a whole damn month before he decides you ain’t gonna show up again.”
Nash looked at Cody with open amusement as they stood on the secluded path outside the Infirmary. “What makes you think I won’t be comin’ back?”
“Hell, ’course you won’t. You don’t know them hills. They ain’t your bailiwick. But Tyler an’ Wyatt knows ’em. They’ll lay for you, Nash. They’ll bushwhack you just like they did Old Man Jarvess an’ his boys, which, by the by, would’ve took some doin’ so it means they ain’t no slouches when it comes to backshootin’. I know Trace don’t lose any sleep over it and Red Tyler’s a real ornery sonuver.”
Nash still seemed amused as he regarded the big outlaw. “Now you wouldn’t be about to tell me how well you know those breaks, would you, Cody?”
Cody Mann tried to look modest. “Well, fact is, I’ve done my share of hidin’ in that part of the country over the years. And I seen quite a few of them canyons when I was huntin’ mustangs with Cress Bonney ... Besides all which, an extra pair of eyes when you’re up agin a couple of hard cases like Tyler an’ Wyatt wouldn’t go astray, Nash. You know that.”
Clay Nash pursed his lips. He was willing to concede that and also that there would be a constant danger of ambush once he did get back into the breaks and started looking for the Jarvess hideaway. The killers would be out there someplace, just waiting and watching for his return. And they would follow, let him lead them to the hole-in-the-wall—then move in and try to catch him unawares ...
“I couldn’t trust you, Cody,” he said finally.
Cody looked at him sidelong. “You could if I was gettin’ a cut of the reward.”
“What?”
“Well, hell, Nash, I ain’t much of a pain to Wells Fargo, you know that. Sure, I done the odd little job that sort of embarrassed ’em for a spell, but nothin’ big, nothin’ like Old Man Jarvess. I can be useful to you. An’ anyways—you owe it to me.”
Nash felt his jaw sag. “I owe you a favor? How the hell d’you make that out?”
Cody scratched awkwardly at one ear with his manacled hands. “Well, when I slugged you, you sort of fell with one arm danglin’ over the edge of the cliff. I could’ve left you like that, but I hauled you back so’s you wouldn’t topple off when you was comin’ round. I reckon you could say I saved your life.”
Nash laughed outright. He couldn’t help himself. “I reckon you could, but damned if I would. Not after me bustin’ a gut to haul you back from dangling over the edge.”
Cody Mann looked deadly serious. “Well, way I see it, I could’ve left you an’ when you’d sort of come half-round, you could of rolled clear off the edge. I figure I done you a favor haulin’ you back, Nash. You’re a fair man, as a rule; you think on it an’ you’ll see I’m right.”
“You’re a damn con-man, Cody,” Nash chuckled. “I was only in that position because you slugged me ...”
“Mr. Nash ...”
The Wells Fargo man turned to see Liz Bonney coming out of the Infirmary. She looked tired and strained. Nash stood so that he could watch Cody out of the corner of his eyes.
“They’re going to operate on Cress right away. Doctor Simms thinks it’ll be all right. Doctor Tibbs won’t commit himself. He thinks they might have to ... remove part of Cress’ lung. A very serious operation.”
Nash could see she was starting to break and
he said quickly, “He looks a mighty strong young hombre to me, ma’am. I’m sure he’ll pull through.”
“Sure he will, Liz,” Cody cut in. “Cress is tough. He’ll make it.”
Liz nodded, but she was obviously not convinced. She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.
“Well, that’s not your worry, Mr. Nash. You kept your part of the bargain. Now it’s time for me to keep mine …”
“Just a minute, ma’am,” Nash cut in swiftly. “Let’s move over here and you talk a little quieter, if you don’t mind. Cody you sit down in the middle of this here path right where I can see you, hands clasped on top of your head. Savvy?”
Cody shrugged and did as Nash requested as the Wells Fargo man led the young woman back as far as the building then turned so that he could watch Cody. He smiled to himself as he saw the set of the big outlaw’s head and shoulders: the man was obviously straining to pick up a few words ...
Liz spoke very clearly but very quietly as she told him about the ‘cathedral’ and the ‘altar’.
Nash frowned. “That’s all? Line ’em up and you’ll find the entrance to the hideout?”
“That’s all Cress said.”
“But there’s got to be more than that,” Nash protested. “Where the hell’s this ‘cathedral’ to start with? And what’s the ‘altar’?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s something to do with that old Spanish mission they say lies up in the breaks ...”
“Hell, that’s a legend. No one’s ever seen the place,” Nash dismissed the suggestion. “You told me you knew where the Jarvess hideout is.”
“I said I could tell you what Jarvess told my husband, Mr. Nash,” Liz corrected him. “I didn’t mean to mislead you ...”
“Well, you damn well have,” cut in Nash angrily. “I figured you’d gimme directions to ride straight to that hidey-hole.”
“I’ve given you directions on how to find it, Mr. Nash,” Liz said coolly. “The rest, I guess is up to you. But I believe I still qualify for any reward when you find the place, because without my information you wouldn’t know where to begin to look.”
“I still don’t,” Nash growled, then gave a sigh. “All right. It’s disappointin’, is all. I expected more. Mebbe I shouldn’t have. Then again, maybe you should’ve spelt it out plainer for me. But I’ll see what I can do …”
“I—I’d better get back and see how Cress is making out.”
Nash nodded as Liz wished him luck, and then moved back into the infirmary. Returning slowly along the path, Nash saw Cody Mann grinning at him.
“You’re gonna need someone to guide you into them breaks, Nash,” he said. “You got a mite excited there an’ spoke out loud. S’pose I told you I could show you this here ‘cathedral’?”
Nash stiffened: he hadn’t realised he had spoken so loudly. “You’re not going to tell me you can take me to this old mission that’s s’pose to be back in those hills, are you, Cody? ’Cause if you are, I’m not ...”
He broke off. Cody Mann was shaking his head, still grinning and holding out his manacled hands.
“It’s got nothin’ to do with that tall tale. Nothin’ at all ... Now, you take these damn manacles off of me and cut me in for fifty per cent of the reward with Liz an’ Cress—I don’t mind them gettin’ a share—an’ I’ll take you to this here ‘cathedral’ you’re so worried about.”
Nash hesitated. “What about the altar?”
“Well, I’ll be honest, I ain’t sure about that, but I think I know what Old Man Jarvess meant. Even if I’m wrong, finding the cathedral’s halfway there, ain’t it? And you won’t do it without me, Nash.”
“Damn you, Cody! If you’re pullin’ a fast one.”
Cody was all innocence. “Now, would I do that?”
“I ain’t even gonna bother answerin’ that one,” Nash said, taking a key from his shirt pocket and walking forward. “But you don’t get any guns until I see whether you’re lyin’ or not, savvy?”
“Well, I’m kinda hurt that you don’t trust me to that extent, Nash, but I reckon I can live with it ... Here.”
He thrust out his manacled hands and after a slight pause Clay Nash inserted the key and unlocked the metal bands.
He decided that he must be plumb loco even to listen to Cody Mann ...
Chapter Eight – The Blood-Soaked Trail
Red Tyler sat his mount in the ring of rocks and angrily stared around him.
Wyatt rode out of some brush, slapping irritably at mosquitoes and flies that swarmed around his face. He looked surprised to see Tyler.
“Hell, Red, I figured you were still down the other end of the draw.”
“Was. This is where the goddamn trail brought me out—where we started from an hour ago. Hell, Trace, we ain’t gonna find that lousy hole-in-the-wall. Jarvess hid it too damn well. Stands to reason. Lawmen, bounty hunters, an’ every other hombre that ever wore a gun’s been searchin’ for that damn place for years—an’ not one’s come anywheres close to sniffin’ it out. If anyone did happen to get within a frog’s leap, you can bet Old Man Jarvess an’ his boys fixed their wagon for ’em. Ol’ bastard. He never trusted no one. I sure as hell wish McGovern could talk.”
Wyatt shook his head dolefully. “Well, that ain’t likely to happen, so what d’we do, Red? I mean, we risked our necks on that train hold-up same as the Jarvess bunch, an’ we’re the only ones still walkin’ around, but we ain’t even gonna get a silver dollar outta the deal. Worst deal we’ve ever been mixed up in, you ask me.”
“I gotta go along with you there, Trace,” Tyler said as he slammed a fist onto his saddlehorn. “There was no damn reason for Bonney and Mann to hide the Old Man’s body under that bank unless he’d told ’em something. Hell, you could see he hadn’t been cold all that long. He must’ve been alive when he rode into their camp. Otherwise, if they’d just figured to bury him, why did they lie to us at all? Nope, the answer lies with Bonney—an’ Cody Mann.”
Wyatt absorbed the reasoning slowly, then frowned. “Well—why’d they head out of the spread and into town instead of goin’ to collect the loot if the old man had told ’em somethin’?”
“I don’t know,” Tyler snapped in frustrated anger. “Bonney was hit. Bad. So they had to get him into a sawbones. But they didn’t all need to go. Leastways, I don’t think so. But come to think of it, Nash had Cody manacled. Maybe he was gonna turn him over to the local law an’ then come back.” Tyler snapped his fingers, liking his theory better as he expanded it. “Yeah. Could be. Cody’s tangled with Wells Fargo before. Nash is one tough hombre. He’d get Cody stashed away safely before comin’ after the loot. An’ you can bet anythin’ Jarvess told Bonney would’ve been passed along to him. So he’ll be back.”
“And we lay for him?”
“Yeah. An’ follow.”
Wyatt looked dubious. “This Nash. He’s a mighty tough hombre, like you said. An’ there’s only two of us. You reckon we can handle him?”
Tyler snapped his head up with a frown, then pursed his lips. “Hmmmm ... could be you got a point there, Trace.”
“Well, what you reckon we should do?”
“I reckon we should go get ourselves some reinforcements.”
Wyatt blinked.
“Billy Brewer and Harley Pepper down on Faro Creek ain’t got no love for Nash. He put ’em both away for a spell on the rock pile an’ killed Billy’s old man. They got a sod hut down there an’ I figure they’d come lend a hand for a chance at a share in the Jarvess loot.”
Trace Wyatt thought about it. “Take a day to get down there an’ back.”
“So? You see Nash anyplace right now? You head on down, Trace. I’ll stick around and watch for Nash. We’ll meet here sundown tomorrow. That okay with you?”
Wyatt wasn’t too happy with the arrangements but as he couldn’t see that they had much choice, he agreed.
“Okay, get movin’,” Tyler told him. “With some luck we’ll be countin’ that old o
wlhoot’s loot in less than a week.”
He grinned for the first time in days.
Nash and Mann spent the night in town before heading out at first light of the following morning. There had been supplies to arrange, packhorses to hire and other preparations to make for a prolonged stay and search in the hills.
Nash had manacled Cody’s legs to the brass bed-end in the hotel room, then gone to the Infirmary to learn that Cress Bonney had still not recovered consciousness after his operation to remove the bullet from him.
“I’d say the operation was successful,” Doctor Tibbs told Nash, “but that’s not to say he’s going to recover.” Tibbs, the more pessimistic of the medical team, glanced down the gloomy room to the end of the line of beds where pale-faced Liz Bonney sat beside her husband. “Had to take part of a lung. Pretty crude sort of job. He lost three ribs in the process—had to make room to work, you see. He won’t be exactly a cripple if he recovers, but—well, there’ll be a lot of chores he’ll never be able to tackle.”
“That’s heartenin’ news for a bronc-buster to wake up to, Doc.”
Tibbs shrugged. “He’ll have his life. He’ll have to be grateful for that.”
Nash stared at the medico—then shrugged and left. There didn’t seem to be any point in seeing Liz. It was a hell of a thing, though, he thought, as he headed back to the hotel room. Alive, yet not alive. It was going to be mighty hard for Bonney—if he pulled through. And it was going to be hard on Liz, too. Obviously they had little money. The burden was going to fall on Liz. If Bonney couldn’t exert himself much, then she was going to have to be the breadwinner. That would mean town living for them both: she sure wouldn’t be able to run a horse ranch herself ...
The Wells Fargo man was grim-faced when he returned to the room and he didn’t even make any reply to Cody’s usual flippant greeting. After a time, Cody sensed that something was upsetting the big Wells Fargo agent.
