‘Either way, it’s in both our interests that everything goes well. I’d be obliged if we work together on that.’
Drago glared back then, with a sigh, provided a curt nod. He glanced at Jonah.
‘Is this your deputy?’
Jonah bustled forward. ‘I’m not a lawman. I’m Jonah Eckstein. You may remember me from last month’s attempted—’
‘I do. What’s a clerk doing here?’
‘I’m assisting Sheriff Creed and making available to him my expertise on—’
‘I’m not interested.’ Drago stabbed a finger at Jonah’s chest, the slight blow knocking him back a pace. ‘Just keep quiet. My men haven’t got time to waste on you two and your ridiculous schemes, and I don’t take kindly to people who irritate me.’
As Jonah mopped his brow, Creed brushed past Drago and vaulted into the car. He waited while Jonah struggled up, then looked into the dark interior.
When his eyes accustomed to the gloom, he saw that six wagon riders stood facing outwards from a small crate. Through the gaps in the slats, Creed could see four bags resting inside.
‘Just as I told you,’ Jonah whispered, then lowered his head when Drago swung into the car.
‘Like he says, is that all your protection, Drago?’ Creed said.
‘I’ve got enough men ensuring those bags stay here,’ Drago said.
‘If someone just gets by them, they’ll—’
‘Someone won’t just get by them,’ Drago shouted, waving a firm finger in Creed’s face. ‘A lawman who’s offering advice like that in another lawman’s county is going to irritate me.’
As the train whistled, then lurched to a start, both men glared at each other. Then Creed headed to the open door. Over the heads of the wagon riders, he watched the station fall back, then turned to face Drago.
‘I’m not here to irritate you. I just have plenty of protection experience.’
‘The only experience you have is being behind outlaws. I face them down.’
‘Not always.’
‘I’ve failed on the open trail when I’ve only had two men. This time, I have a secure base with twelve men, plus ten per cent of a lawman and some clerk.’ Drago took a long pace to loom over Creed. ‘I reckon you’ve seen enough. I’d be obliged if you’d join the other passengers now.’
Creed stood his ground. ‘We’ll stay here.’
‘You’ll leave this car.’ Drago glanced over Creed’s shoulder at the plains, which hurtled by as the train built up its full speed. ‘One way or the other.’
Creed glanced over his shoulder and gulped. ‘I’ll sit in the passenger car.’
Drago chuckled, his men joining in the laughter.
With Jonah at his side and the wagon riders’ laughter echoing in his ears, Creed strode through the car’s side entrance. He tore his gaze from the tracks speeding by beneath his feet and vaulted the gap to the passenger car.
Jonah cast a nervous glance at the track blurring by below, then took a long step over the gap. Creed smiled and walked inside.
As instructed, the porter had placed the strongbox by the first seat and Creed and Jonah sat on either side of it.
Jonah lifted the lid and removed its only contents, a shovel and a newspaper. He slipped the shovel beneath the seat then, with a snap of his hands, opened the paper and hid behind it.
Creed looked down the car.
The dozen or so occupants were all either conversing or looking out of the windows with the sullen boredom that all long journeys induced. On the back seat, a man sat with his hat pulled over his eyes and both feet sprawled on the seat facing him.
For ten seconds Creed stared at the man. Then the man tipped back his hat and winked.
Chapter Fifteen
As the train rattled through the next two stations, Creed tapped his foot on the floor and bided his time.
At each stop, he pressed his face against the window and watched the wagon riders jump down from the car to secure the platform. While he watched their every move, Jonah hid behind his paper.
At last Creed’s irritation got the better of him and he batted Jonah’s paper from his hand.
‘I’m getting to wonder why I brought you along,’ he said.
Jonah shrugged. ‘I’ve wondered that ever since we left Lincoln.’
‘Then watch what’s happening instead of reading that paper. You’re here to uncover Drago’s weaknesses.’
Creed glared at Jonah then, with an angry snort, turned to look out of the window. Outside, Drago ordered two men to take up different positions, hurrying them on with colorful oath-filled commands.
‘What have you learned in your studious observations?’ Jonah asked.
Creed watched Drago until he disappeared from view back into the freight car.
‘I’ve studied Drago’s procedures each time we’ve stopped.’
‘I know you’re doing that – as does Drago, the wagon riders, and everyone else in this car.’
Creed leaned back in his seat. ‘As I intended. A lawman has to let everybody know that he’s around.’
Jonah laughed. ‘Are you always this subtle when you enforce the law?’
‘Yup.’
‘That explains a lot. You haven’t caught the Bell gang or the Ten Per Cent gang, and you won’t unless you learn subtlety.’
‘I am being subtle.’ Creed flared his eyes. ‘You don’t want to see me when I’m not.’
‘I don’t, but you’re watching the wagon riders to discover who amongst them is the weak link, but because they know you’re watching them, they won’t betray themselves.’
Creed pointed at the paper. ‘Sitting behind that helps, does it?’
‘It does.’ Jonah shuffled the paper on his lap, then raised it again, a grin emerging as his face disappeared.
With an outstretched finger, Creed lowered the paper.
‘That smug grin tells me you reckon you know something.’
Jonah licked his lips as he lowered the paper to his lap and leaned to Creed.
‘I have observed several interesting things subtly when you weren’t showing everyone that you’re a lawman. I know who your weak link is.’ Jonah lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘It’s Drago.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he makes all the important decisions. If he ordered his men to throw the shipment out the door and put their hands over their eyes for ten minutes, they’d do it. With that sort of power, you can do anything.’
Creed shrugged. ‘Possibly.’
‘There’s more. Someone on this train is in on the raid. At both the last two stops, a man has strolled down the platform and glanced at Drago.’
‘A glance doesn’t mean anything.’
‘Perhaps, but I reckon that if he didn’t know that you were watching, he might have done something more.’
Creed frowned and then held out a hand. ‘You got any of that paper I can borrow?’
Jonah peeled off two sheets and handed them to Creed.
‘A few lessons in subtlety, and who knows, you might learn something.’
Creed shuffled the paper open and hid behind it.
‘I don’t want to learn anything from a toad like you,’ he said.
* * *
In late morning, the train pulled up at Valance, the last stop before they entered Marren County.
Creed slipped off the train and strode to the waiting-room. He leaned against the wall and glared at Drago and the wagon riders, watching their movements.
Then he noticed Jonah in the car, hiding behind his paper, and nodded to himself. He peeled from the wall and walked down the platform.
At the ticket-office, he stared at a notice-board, pretending to read, then, throwing out his legs with exaggerated kicks while stretching his back, strolled around the side of the waiting-room.
At the back, he was alone.
With a quick gesture, he glanced into the back of the waiting-room, confirming that it was empty, then slipped open the window. He rolled
through the window and snaked across the floor to the front.
He located a knot hole in the wall and peered through it at the wagon riders. Just as the first flurries of irritation hit him for having taken Jonah’s advice on subtlety, a fair-haired man stepped off the second train car.
The man glanced up and down the platform, then ambled along the side of the train. With a swift dart of his head, he glanced into the passenger car at Jonah, then continued past.
Jonah turned over a sheet, then hid behind his paper again.
The man walked to the end of the platform. He turned, looking in all directions, then lifted on his heels twice and headed back down the platform.
As the man reached the second freight car, he glanced inside, then sauntered past. The wagon riders watched him leave with sullen disinterest.
At the second passenger car, the man jumped aboard.
Inside the waiting-room, Creed smiled to himself.
‘Nathaniel McBain,’ he said.
Chapter Sixteen
Eight miles out of Valance, Creed edged closer to the window and peered outside.
A broken fence came into view, its haphazard line snaking across the plains. This fence marked the edge of a ranch long since abandoned, but Creed knew its significance.
With a tip of his hat to Jonah, he stood and headed from the car. The wagon rider guarding the door to the freight car sneered at Creed, but with a short mocking bow, he let him enter.
Creed took a long pace into the car and tipped his hat to Drago. Drago looked up, shaking his head.
‘Get out,’ he said.
‘You had a right to say that when I was out of my territory.’ Creed raised his eyebrows. ‘We’ve just passed over the county boundary. This is my territory and as the legally appointed—’
‘Yeah, I understand. I suppose I could accept your help.’ Drago licked his lips. ‘I could do with ten per cent more assistance.’
Several men chuckled at Drago’s humor, but Creed shrugged.
‘I have one suggestion to make the shipment safer.’ Creed leaned on the train wall. ‘I’ll need two of your strongest men to come with me.’
Drago sighed. Then, with a few brisk gestures, he ordered two men to go with Creed.
Five minutes later, the two men staggered back into the car, carrying the strongbox, Creed leading them with a fixed smile on his face.
The men maneuvered the strongbox to the middle of the car. With a nod to each other, they dropped it for it to land with a huge thud.
Drago pushed from the wall and strode to the box. He kicked it, then faced Creed with his hands on his hips.
‘How will this tin box make the shipment safer?’
‘It covers your only weak point.’
Drago backed away from the box, shaking his head. He pointed at the men surrounding the shipment, then the men guarding the doors.
‘I’ve got a dozen men guarding a solid railway car. Nobody that I don’t consider welcome gets in here, and you want to put the shipment in there to make it safer?’
‘You’ve got it. If you get any brighter, you could be a lawman.’
Drago pointed a firm finger at Creed. ‘One more insult and Marren County will need a new lawman. I’m not putting anything in there. It’s useless.’
‘It’s security, in case a raid gets past your solid walls and even more solid men.’
Drago glanced at his men and chuckled. ‘Are you telling me you have a dozen more armed guards hiding in there?’
Drago’s men laughed, but Creed bent down to pat a firm hand on the box.
‘No. It’s just covering your weak spot.’ Creed pointed at the cash shipment in the crate. ‘That crate is too portable. If Bell raids us and gets away with the shipment, he faces this box. It’s too sturdy to break into straight away and dynamite will destroy the cash. So he’ll have to take it with him and as it’s heavy, it’ll slow him down.’
Drago sneered. ‘He’ll still break into it.’
‘He will, but it’ll take time, and I’ll use that time to catch him.’
Drago moved to the box. He circled it until he faced Creed.
‘Your idea fails on one count – Bell won’t get in here to get the shipment in the first place.’
‘If that happens, we’ll both be happy. If it doesn’t, this’ll help. So we’ve got nothing to argue about.’
For long moments Drago glared at Creed, then sighed.
‘If I agree, will you stop annoying me?’
‘Yup.’
‘Then the shipment goes in your tin box.’
Creed provided his most pleasant smile. ‘Obliged.’
‘But the second we’ve left Marren County, it’s coming out.’
‘The second we leave Marren County, I couldn’t care less what happens to the shipment.’ Creed shrugged. ‘You could steal it yourself and it wouldn’t concern me.’
Drago narrowed his eyes, then barked orders to two of his men. These men threw open the crate, extracted the bags, and dragged them to the box.
Creed swung the box lid open. He patted the sides, receiving a solid thud in return, placed each bag in a corner of the strongbox, then swung the lid closed.
As the lid landed with a resounding slam, he extracted a large key from his pocket. He slipped it into the lock and turned his wrist, but the key refused to move.
He strained harder, but the key was still firm.
Drago chuckled. ‘It seems like your tin box is a good idea, after all. If it’s as hard to open as it is to close, nobody will ever get in it.’
With laughter peeling out on all sides, Creed grabbed a projection on the side and shook the whole box, only managing to lift the heavy box a few inches with each shake.
Inside, the bags thudded as they fell over. Creed lifted the box higher, straining with his one-handed effort while tugging on the key. Then, with a lunge, the box slipped from his grip and rattled to the floor.
But the key turned, the sudden movement rocking Creed to his knees.
‘Ten per cent of a sheriff, but ninety per cent of an idiot,’ Drago said, chortling and slapping his thighs. ‘Now hand over the key and get out my sight.’
Creed stood and righted his jacket, then wiped his warm cheeks. He slipped the key into his pocket.
‘The shipment is in Lincoln’s bank box while it’s in my county and so I’ll guard the key.’ Creed patted his pocket, then shrugged his jacket closed. ‘When we leave my county you can have it back.’
Drago stormed forward a large pace, bunched a fist, and shook it in Creed’s face.
‘I’m guarding the shipment. Now give me the key or I’ll pound you into pulp.’
‘You wouldn’t hit a lawman.’
Drago sneered, but he lowered his fist. He glanced away, then turned on his heel to slug Creed in the guts. Drago didn’t follow through with the punch but even so, Creed staggered back, gulping air.
Creed righted himself, then strode back to square off to Drago.
‘You just made a big mistake.’
Drago glanced around. ‘Anybody here witness anything untoward happening?’
A chorus of nays came from all around Creed.
Creed bunched his fists. ‘I didn’t mean that. I don’t hide behind a star.’
‘Then you just made an even bigger mistake.’ Drago widened his eyes and leaned down to glare at Creed.
Creed shrugged. With his left hand, he tipped back his hat, then followed through, slapping Drago’s cheek with the back of his hand.
As Drago’s head rocked back, he slugged him deep in the stomach with the other hand, then bundled him to the floor with shoulders and fists.
Drago skidded back across the floor and lay for a moment. Then he rolled to his feet with greater ease than his size would suggest he could.
He stormed forward, bearing down on Creed with his fists raised.
Creed stood his ground and hammered another blow into Drago’s stomach, but with Drago prepared the blow merely slammed into
muscle. Creed tried a combination of jabs and round-armed punches but Drago merely took them all, his face set in a snide grin.
‘You finished?’ Drago said when Creed stopped to get his breath.
‘I just—’
Drago swung his fist, the great ham of his hand crunching into Creed’s chin, cracking his head back.
Creed staggered back, only the wall saving him from tumbling to the floor. He pushed from the wall only to walk into another solid blow to the cheek that sent him reeling.
He lay, his jaw and cheek numb, then looked up to see a long kick slamming into him. He lifted to roll from it, but it still thundered into his guts, turning his insides to water as he rolled.
Creed stopped his roll, lying face down, and thrust his arms down, but as he tried to rise, a stamp on the back slammed his face into the floor, grinding dirt into his cheeks. Flat on his belly, he tensed, expecting another blow, but nothing came.
For long seconds he lay, letting the buzzing in his ears recede, then rolled to his knees. Drago stood over him, flexing his hand and examining the knuckles.
‘You’ve got a solid jaw, Sheriff.’ Drago grinned. ‘I still reckon it’ll break before my hand does. Give me the key.’
‘In my county . . .’
Drago lunged down, grabbed Creed’s collar, and dragged him to his feet. Creed tried to raise his fists, but he was too numb to force his limbs to work.
‘You like your county that much, you can see it closer to,’ Drago said.
With Creed’s trailing feet brushing the floor, Drago dragged him towards the open door. Creed kicked back trying to gain purchase, but in two long strides they were at the door.
The wagon riders peeled back, leaving the doorway clear.
In a desperate lunge, Creed grabbed the side of the door, his act stopping Drago from dangling him outside. With one leg outside and the side of his body pressed against the side of the door, Creed hung on.
He glanced down. A few yards below, the ground hurtled by, the jagged stones a blur. The cold wind whipped into his face, spicing his senses.
‘The key,’ Drago grunted in his ear.
Creed released his grip on the door and raised his hand to his pocket, then jerked his elbow into Drago’s stomach. Drago merely edged him outside another foot.
The Ten Per Cent Gang Page 6
