Riders of the Silver Trail

by Franklin D. Lincoln

  “Don’t make a sound,” Rio growled. “Get up and move in close to that rock.” He motioned toward the big boulder.

  “Shorty, move those horses back and tie them in the brush. Then come on back.”

  Francy was rising to her feet now as Rio stepped back and gave her room. She pushed a shock of blond hair back out of her eyes as she struggled sullenly to her feet. Rio stepped behind her and gave her a shove. She slammed face forward against the face of the boulder. Rio followed close and pinned her in place, craning his neck to see over the rock. The rider was fast approaching along the trail. In just moments he would be coming close and could pass by the ambush spot.

  Shorty came running up from behind, bending low so as to not be seen over the rock. “Hold her! And cover her mouth!” Rio ordered.

  Francy felt the transfer of power and tried to struggle, but all was for naught. The two men were too powerful for her and Shorty now held her tight, his burly hand covering her mouth. She tried to bite it, but only gagged. Shorty banged her head against the stone. Her brain went cloudy and nauseous dizziness took control of her and she sank into unconsciousness.

  Rio, now lying prone against the top of the boulder with his rifle firmly braced against the rock, gazed along the trail. The rider was close enough to identify now. It was Sheriff Mort Dooley. For some reason, Dooley was in pursuit of them, but Rio did not know why, nor did he really care. The fact was, the lawman was on his trail and he had to kill him.

  Closer and closer, Dooley rode. The rifle sight settled on the wiry frame of the old man. Closer, closer. Now he was passing just below Rio’s position. Now he was just passed, his back creating a clear target. The rifle sight lined between the lawman’s shoulders. A clear and near shot. Rio’s trigger finger tightened. The slack was taken up and then with a little more squeeze, the Winchester bellowed one single time. It’s echo screeching across the open expanse to and back from the far crimson sun setting horizon.

  Mort Dooley’s arms flung high in the air and he pitched backward from the saddle to land heavily onto the shadow darkened trail. His riderless horse loped on down the trail. All went silent. Mort Dooley moved no more.

  ****

  CHAPTER 17

  RENDEVOUS

  The clear night sky still held a tinge of gray. A quarter moon and an array of stars lent slight visibility along the shadowy trail into Paiute Pass. Jack Clayton as Tom Ragan, Ben Colby and two of his henchman had been riding steadily for the last hour following the setting sun until it completely disappeared behind the horizon. Colby, true to his word had never mentioned their destination until they entered the pass.

  “This is Paiute Pass,” he said as they angled their mounts between the low lying hills that lined the pass on each side. “We should meet up with the shipment soon.” Then as they rounded a bend, he added with a trace of excitement in his voice. “Looks like that’s it up ahead.

  “Peering ahead into the shadows, Clayton could see the bulky shape of a wagon and team heading toward them. As the two advancing parties approached each other, Jack could see the driver on the box and two accompanying outriders on each side of the wagon.

  “Hello, the wagon!” Colby waved. The driver pulled back on the reins, drawing the team to a halt. The two riders advanced forward slowly.

  The rider on the left cast a bulky shadow, his face in shadow. The other man was slimmer. “You Colby?” the bulky shadow asked. His voice was deep and disturbingly familiar to Clayton. The hackles on the back of Jack’s neck stood up and prickled.

  “That’s right,” Colby answered, as he and Clayton halted their horses, sitting face to face with the riders.

  Jack’s fears were soon realized when the bulky man said. “I’m Ace Murdock. We got business?”

  “If you got what I want, we have.” Then to Jack. “Tom, check the wagon.”

  Refraining from answering, Jack swung his horse to the left and rode around the slimmer rider and came up behind the wagon. So far it was dark enough that Murdock could not see his face. If he could just keep his face shadowed and not let his voice be heard, he might be able to play his hand a while longer. If not, all would be lost and he would probably have to shoot it out here with the odds stacked against him.

  He pulled up to the wagon, dismounted and lifted the tarp. Holding the tarp above his head so his face would not be seen, he struck a match to inspect the contents. In the flickering light of the match, the silvery shine of minted bars reflected. They had a Mexican stamp. These were the bars that Jack, himself had smuggled across the Arizona border. He had come full circle now and had ridden the full length of the pipeline.

  He blew out the match, replaced the tarp and remounted. He rode close to Colby and said in a low voice, hoping it would not carry to Murdock. “OK.”

  “Then let’s roll!” Colby ordered, wheeling his horse to the side. The driver whipped up the team and started forward. Colby waved to his two men to advance to the rear of the wagon and follow. He and Clayton spurred their mounts forward to lead on back to the Glory Hill mine.

  The procession followed the darkened trail. Minutes passed by quickly. Jack knew that once they were back at the mine there would be lamplight and it would become increasingly more difficult to conceal his face from Murdock. He had to play this hand out. Take what comes and hope for the best.

  The trip out to meet the wagon seemed longer than the trip back. Partially because he knew where he was going and mostly because he dreaded time running out. He could already see the valley up ahead. They were almost back to the Glory Hill.

  “We’ll unload at the refinery,” Colby said as they approached the valley. “We’ll need to melt the bars and restamp them as ours.” Jack said nothing. “We do that with the silver we steal from the other miners too. When we start shipping silver to the mint, we’ll have a corner on the market.”

  “Smart,” Jack acknowledged, keeping his remark short and low.

  They rolled into the valley and approached the refinery. Clayton could see the figure of a guard rushing forward on foot to meet them. He carried his rifle high at the ready.

  Colby waved to him and he rushed to the big double doors of the refinery and pulled them open. He then disappeared inside the building and in a moment flickering lanterns were lighted inside. Their beaming light spilled outside to light up the driveway.

  Colby and Clayton halted their horses and wheeled them back to face the trailing wagon. Jack could see Murdock’s face in the glow now. Jack kept his head down trying to shadow his face with the brim of his hat.

  “Have your driver back the wagon in so we can unload,” Colby shouted to Murdock. Murdock turned to his men and gave the orders.

  Clayton and Colby pulled their mounts back out of the way, rode toward the hitchrail at the side of the building and dismounted.

  ****

  CHAPTER 18

  DISCOVERY

  In a matter of minutes, the driver had positioned the wagon and had it backed into the open area of the refinery. He set the brake and tied off the reins. The team blew, stamped uneasily at the restraint, and snorted.

  “Alright, let’s get this thing unloaded,” Colby ordered and led the way into the refinery. Murdock and the other men followed. Clayton held back to the rear of the group. He glanced up at the driver and saw he was still sitting on the box, making no effort to move. That meant that if something happened inside the refinery, the driver would be behind him making escape more difficult.

  Jack moved toward the end of the wagon bed but still remained a little alongside, refraining from stepping into the better lighted open area. Two men threw back the tarp revealing the silver to the lantern light. Colby smiled broadly, his eyes gleaming. “What do you think?” Murdock asked with a gloat.

  “Beautiful,” Colby murmured. “Just Beautiful.”

  The two men started pulling the silver bars from the bed, handing them to the other men as they each in turn took a bar and stacked it against a side wall before returning
to the wagon for another.

  The work was well underway when Colby glanced at Jack. “What are you standing over there for Ragan. Come on over and get a good look at this stuff.”

  “Ragan!” Murdock jerked his head up. “Tom Ragan? Is that you?”

  Jack nodded with a grunt, keeping his head low.

  “I didn’t recognize you in the dark. Why didn’t you say something?” Murdock started toward him grinning. Suddenly the grin faded and Murdock came to an abrupt halt. “What the…? You’re not Ragan!”

  Colby jerked erect with excitement, “What?”

  “He’s right,” Jack said, stepping forward, his gun held tightly in his right hand and pointed directly at Murdock. “I’m not.” He lifted his head, his face revealed in the lantern light, his slate blue eyes glaring with menace. The hammer of his pistol eared back with a loud click.

  “Now! All of you, get your hands up!” Clayton pushed Murdock back against Colby. “You men,” he waved the pistol barrel at the men who were unloading. “Get over there with your bosses!” Then added with a booming voice, “Now!”

  The men slowly bunched together.

  “Clayton!” Murdock growled. “I should have known we didn’t get rid of you. I knew we needed to see a body.”

  “What are you talking about?” Colby demanded.

  “This is Jack Clayton, a government man. But unlike Tom Ragan he’s working against us, not with us.” Murdock explained.

  “What about Ragan?” Colby flustered with confusion.

  “Yeah, how about that Clayton? What happened to Ragan?” Murdock asked.

  “You don’t need to know,” Jack answered, “Besides, you’re in no position to be asking questions anyhow. Now, one by one I want each one of you to carefully lift your weapons and drop them to the ground. One slight mishap, and I’ll shoot you graveyard dead.”

  “That’s what you think, Mr. G-Man,” Murdock smiled triumphantly.

  Clayton’s eyes darkened with realization as he felt cold steel press against his spine. He grimaced and let his pistol hang loose on his trigger finger in defeat. He sighed. “Guess you forgot about my driver, Clayton.” Murdock chided as the driver reached around Jack’s body to relieve him of his sixgun.

  The driver pushed him forward. Colby, Murdock and the other men crowded close around him. “I don’t know what’s going on here,” Colby growled. “But you’ve made one bad mistake, coming here and making a fool out me.”

  “No one can make a fool out of you Colby,” The voice was hard and cold, but definitely feminine. “You were born a fool,” Tamara Wild said, emerging from the shadows beside the wagon. She moved slowly and steadily forward, a sixgun lined on the outlaws, beading directly at Colby’s forehead. Colby stared at her red stained blouse.

  “Now get your hands back up and move back away from Jack.” Then to Jack, “Here,” She tossed him a pistol she had had taken from Tom Ragan’s body while the men were gone. Jack caught it and step back to one side.

  “Well, well, Miss Gordon. It seems my friend didn’t shoot you after all, but you sure ruined that pretty blouse.” Colby sneered. “Red ink from my ledgers, I presume. I should have guessed it. I should have known the two of you were working together.”

  “Not quite together, but same objective,” Tamara answered.

  “Very clever, Miss Gordon,”

  “You are wrong there, Colby. I’m a Pinkerton detective, not Sue Gordon. The real Sue Gordon was suspicious of her uncle’s death. She hired the Pinkerton’s to investigate you. So, I came in her place.”

  “Now,” Jack said waving his pistol, “Let’s start all over. Where were we now? Oh yes.” He eared back the hammer, “Once again, let’s get rid of that hardware You first Colby.”

  Colby lowered his hand toward his holstered six shooter. “Uh..uh,” Jack warned. “Use your left and only two fingers. Lift it out real careful like.” Colby glared out from under dark belligerent eyes. His fingers touched the pistol butt, but he stopped short and didn’t grasp it. A hint of smile returned to his face. “I don’t think so,” Colby pulled his hand to the side. “It’s my turn again,” he said with a choked chuckle. He looked past Clayton and Tamara.

  “Just in time Rio,” Colby raised his voice.

  “Nice try, Colby.” Jack said, trying to hide any hint of fear, hoping Colby was bluffing. “Won’t work. I had the sheriff arrest your boys this afternoon.”

  “Then I guess the good sheriff didn’t do his job,” Rio’s voice behind Jack’s back sent chills down his spine. “Got himself killed, though,” Rio laughed.

  “Now if you two will just drop your guns,” Colby said gleefully, drawing his own.

  “This is getting monotonous,” Jack said and dropped the pistol to the floor. He glanced at Tamara and nodded. Her eyes flashed, but she followed suit and dropped the weapon.

  “Look what else we have here for you, boss,” Rio said as Shorty pushed Francy forward into the circle of light. “I don’t know who she is, but I’m sure she’s working with these two. We caught her in Daggett’s office.” Then to Clayton, “My you sure do have a lot women.”

  “Daggett’s office?” Colby retorted. “What gives, anyway. First the Dark Rider kills Daggett and then…”

  “Daggett killed?” Rio was surprised. “When? How? How do you know the Dark Rider did it?”

  “We saw him do it. Then this,” Colby gestured toward Jack. “Imposter killed the Dark Rider.” His bushy brows pulled together. “Maybe not though,’ Colby muttered thoughtfully. “But he did bring his body in. It’s right over here with Daggett’s body.” He stepped to the wall, and lifted a tarp that covered the bodies. “See!”

  Ace Murdock’s big jaw dropped. “Ragan!” He said with disbelief. “That’s Tom Ragan! The real one!”

  Rage surged through Colby’s bulky body. “Aargh!” He groaned as he swung on Jack, arcing his pistol to crash into Clayton’s skull. Jack fell back before the blow came, minimizing its impact, but still crumpled dizzily to the floor. He rolled over just as Colby’s boot caught him in the side, landing a solid blow. Air gushed from Clayton’s lungs. “You dirty liar, you…” His right foot was raised to stomp the G-man once more; his rage almost out of control, but he refrained from completing the kick as gunfire erupted outside in the valley. He regained his balance and shouted to Rio, “Get out there and see what’s happening!” He shoved Rio forward and Rio sprinted toward the entrance. As he passed by Shorty, whose attention was momentarily diverted, Francy twisted violently, throwing him off balance and stamped on his toe. He loosened his grip and Francy pushed him directly at the distracted Colby. They fell back into the other men and Francy dove beneath the wagon.

  Clayton following her lead rolled backward under the wagon, grasping a fallen pistol off the floor as he went. He rolled onto his back as Colby, Shorty and the others regained their footing. Colby squeezed off a shot. Hot lead bore into the wooden floor next to Clayton’s head, spewing splinters into his cheek Jack still flat on his back, raised his pistol and fired twice across chest into the melee, unable to aim.

  Shorty’s back arched as he took a bullet. His arms flew skyward, his gun falling from his fingers and he pitched face forward on the floor. Colby and the others jumped back dodging for cover. Jack fired twice more and then rolled to the other side of the wagon and came face to face with Tamara, who had taken advantage of the diversion and sought cover on this side of the wagon also. “We have to quit meeting like this,” Jack wheezed.

  ****

  CHAPTER 19

  SHOWDOWN

  A hail of bullets pounded the wall over their heads and into the wall behind them. Jack pushed Tamara down hard, then rose and threw two more shots over the wagon at the outlaws. He ducked down, pulling cartridges from his belt, hoping his returned fire would keep his adversaries down while he shoved them into the six gun’s cylinder. Firing still raged outside in the valley.

  Rio came running back into the refinery making his way alongside the wagon
, that was now rocking back and forth as the terrified team fought against their traces and the braked wheels. “Riders shooting it out with the guards,” he shouted, unaware of what had happened during his absence. As he came rushing through, Francy swiveled on to her side and slid her booted foot out from under the wagon and caught his running step.

  He pitched forward onto his face, the surprise so sudden he could not comprehend what had happened. His pistol fell from his hand and slid across the wooden floor. Francy dived after it, rolling out from under the wagon reaching for the weapon. Lead poured into the floor around her hand as her fingers gripped the handle. She rolled to her side bringing the pistol up firing in rapid succession. Clayton was also returning fire. Two men fell.

  Colby, Murdock and the remaining man pulled back from their hiding places behind a stack of crates. Francy fired and one man went down before reaching cover. She poured two more shots into the crate Colby was behind, just to keep him down. She twisted around, knowing Rio was still a threat, but she was too late. The dirty, swarthy pig of a man was all over her, pulling her around and slamming her back against the floor, pounding her gun hand against the wooden flooring, trying to force her to release her hold on the pistol.

  Clayton heard her scream. Sending Tamara at a run outside the refinery ahead of him, he raced to the front of the team, stepped on the hub of the wagon wheel and lifted himself high enough to release the brake. The frightened team bolted forward. Jack fell from the hub, landing on his side as the wagon sped past him leaving the refinery area wide open and clear.

  “Rio!” Clayton shouted, rising to one knee, aiming his six gun.

  Rio still holding Francy down, raised his head and turned to look back. The last thing he saw was the G-Man’s cold hard eyes and the blossoming flame from the Colt’s muzzle. His body flipped sideways off of Francy, his terror filled face twisted in death, a blue black hole between his eyes.