The Bitterroot Trail

by James W. Johnson

  "The state of affairs that we have discovered today has somewhat upset our plans. We must consider our safety first. They'd spot us in no time if we stay bunched up. Shorty, inasmuch as your claim is close and your cabin's well along, you stay here. Keep Pegleg here with you, for he can keep out of sight and can help with your claim until we recover his. Pete and Jim will take up a placer anywhere in the Basin except here."

  "But, what about yuh, podner?" Shorty questioned.

  "Don't worry about me. I think I'll put my tepee up in that little flat we came through from Horse Shoe Bend. I think they call it Jackass Flat. I'll be out of the way there, and it will be easy for me to get in touch with you here. All our investigations and actions will have to be made under cover and at night until we learn the feelings of the miners. Then occasionally we'll put the fear of God in them, and nobody will know how it happened. It's the only way to save the new empire from destruction at the hands of those murderers."

  They talked long into the night. Finally the men, one by one, slunk off to bed. Bob crawled under his blankets at the foot of a nearby pine tree. He was almost asleep when someone spoke his name.

  "What is it, Shorty?" Bob rose on one elbow.

  "Danged if me an' the gal kin sleep. We been talkie' it over. Podner, iffen yuh thinks we wouldn't be in the way, we'd like tuh give up this layout an' come over tuh Jackass Flat with yuh. Besides, it'll take my brains along with yore generalship tuh lick these outlaws."

  "You danged little rascal, you and Daisy are true blue. And Shorty, I got a glimpse of Dixie."

  "Yuh did? What'd she say? Was she glad tuh see yuh?"

  "She wouldn't listen, Shorty. She thinks I sent the Vigilantes to burn the shebang. She hates me, partner. She said so herself."

  "Which goes tuh show danged well she don't, podner. Believe me, I knows gals," Shorty said consolingly.

  But when he received no answer he respectfully retreated to his tent, uneasy of mind over his partner.

  21

  THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED WERE FRAUGHT WITH uneasiness on the part of Bob Bainbridge and his companions. They were kept constantly on the lookout for snooping deputies while finishing their cabins, supply house, and stables. Every stranger who passed the neighborhood was looked upon with suspicion, and their hands were always resting on the hair trigger.

  They were not molested, however, and the houses were completed, all but the chinking. That could be done at odd times, so they turned their attention to the claims. Sluice boxes had to be made, the lumber for which had to be whipsawed. Pete Ranger was put in charge since he was an old hand at the game. They also solicited the help of old Dad Bridger. He had become friendly and was glad enough to exchange work, as he needed his lumber whipsawed to equip his own claim. Their preliminary prospecting showed that the ground would be very rich.

  Bob was anxious to get into Jackass Flat, for it was already the first of November. He wanted to get his shack built and take the pack stock into the flat, where they could find easier wintering.

  "It's strange to me, Shorty," Bob remarked to his partner as they rode down toward Bridger's claim one day, "why these deputies have let us alone so long."

  "Maybe waitin' fer us tuh make a fortune fer 'em. Iffen I don't miss my guess, podner, they'd rather have us git the cabins built an' git the claims down tuh bedrock afore they takes 'em over."

  "You've got a good head, Shorty. I've been thinking that too. It isn't natural they didn't go on the war path hot on my trail after I mixed with those two deputies. They're going to strike, that's certain, and they must have a good reason for waiting. Well, the longer they put it off the better position we'll be in to defend ourselves. I hope old man Bridger knows a lot of these miners. He's sure to know a few of them. If he'll join with us and use his influence it will help."

  The old man greeted them hospitably and asked them to get down. "She's rich, boys, from the grass roots down. If I knows minin' country we got the best in the valley. We's goin' tuh have a regular town up here afore long. I'll betcha they calls it Placerville. A right good name fer it, too."

  "Mighty glad, Dad," Bob answered. "We came down to have a talk with you--a serious talk."

  The old man looked puzzled for a moment. "Go ahead. But be it my claim yore thinkin' about, it's no, whatever it is yuh asks "

  "No," Bob interrupted, "it isn't that. We'll stand by you on that against the world. But it's about a mutual enemy. You heard about Plummer being elected sheriff and his gang appointed deputies?"

  "Shore. I was to the meetin'."

  "Well, he's the leader of the worst gang of murderers and thieves that ever struck the territory. I've known his bloody trail from Lewiston this way, and it leads through every camp in these mountains. He elected himself sheriff with the sole purpose of robbing you and me and the rest under the guise of the protection of the law--I mean the recognized law. They'll be jumping claims and robbing sluice boxes and pack trains before spring, and don't forget it! If any of his gang happen to be arrested there'll be enough of the gang to swear him out scot-free."

  "Yuh don't mean tuh tell me, Bob? Come tuh think about it, most of the miners I've talked tuh about town in Bannock is keepin' mighty still." He nodded his head thoughtfully. "Funny, too, they's been two or three miners come up missin' lately, an' some has said as how they talked too much."

  "Same old thing. That's his old tactics in operation again. No one knows how these men get killed, or why. He's doing that to put the fear in the rest of the people. We've got to do something about it. Plummer and his gang have got to give way to decent, law-abiding men!"

  "But what do yuh aim tuh do about it, Bob?"

  "I want you to help, by finding out the feeling of the miners. Talk to them on the side if you can."

  The old man's eyes were half closed as he squatted on the gravel bar beside his gold pan. "Do yuh happen tuh belong tuh a order, either of yuh?"

  A light flashed in Bob's mind. "Of course! I'm a Mason!" he said excitedly.

  The old man sprang to his feet and reached out his bony hand for the grip. "Count my crooked nose in the pot, Bob!"

  "Good, Dad! You can trust the other men; they're true blue. Report anything to Shorty here, or either of the others, and word will get to me."

  Bob and Shorty took leave of the old man with a new feeling of warmth for him. The old man could locate the other men of the order in camp, and then they would know whom they could trust. They didn't count on the delay that would be necessary for the old man to gather this information. He went to town seldom as he had to walk in one day and back the next, and he wasn't young any more. There was danger too for the old man should Plummer get next to what was going on. But they would be ready to protect him to any extent in case of necessity, and Bob advised Shorty to see to it that one of the boys was always close to the old man.

  That night they loaded two of the pack animals with supplies and tools, and loaded the third with grain from the supply they had brought along. Bob always grained Star Face to keep him at tiptop shape.

  It was agreed that Shorty would go along and help with the building of Bob's shack. Perhaps at a later date Shorty and Daisy would build in the flat, because they knew it would be an ideal garden spot, and eventually they would want to build their home in just such a place.

  Jim and Pete promised to stay close to Shorty's place and see that Daisy was taken care of. Jim had made several trips to town without any trouble or molestation, and as he was the least likely one of the lot to be recognized that duty fell to him whenever anything was needed. He was to keep an eye on the old man Bridger who, because of his age, might need help at any time.

  "Now, Jim," advised Bob, "when you're in town, keep your ear to the ground, and see if you can't pick up the scent of those skunks. They're up to some devilment, and we don't want them to take us by surprise."

  "Oh, yes, Bob, I plumb forgot tuh tell yuh two strangers come past the placer tuhday where we was workin' an' was mighty interested in what wa
s goin' on. Got down an' examined the names on the location notices."

  Bob looked grave. They would know by this time that he was in the country.

  "That's bad, boys," Bob said seriously. "Maybe I ought to stay here, but I don't figure they're ready to strike yet. As soon as I get located I'll send Shorty back. Fix up some kind of barricade to protect yourselves in case they come and try to jump the claims. It's better to let them start the fight, and then we'll do our best to finish it."

  With the new developments, they decided to take only part of the pack stock, instead of all of them, as originally planned. They would drive the remainder out later.

  "Podner," counseled Shorty, as they rode along behind their pack horses, "I don't fancy none yore settin' up out there in Jackass Flat alone. We might have a bunch o' trouble long before yuh expects it."

  Bob rode on in silence, not seeming to hear Shorty. When he finally spoke, it was in a tone seldom used by Bob Bainbridge.

  "Shorty, I'm moving out by myself for a purpose. I've got some work to do that is strictly my business, and I don't want to bring you and the boys into it. I'm going to know personally every corner and den in Bannock City before the winter's over. I'm going to take Dixie out of that rotten gang of murderers, whether she wants it or not! I'd even kill old John Lee himself to get her away. What kind of father is he to keep her in with a gang of killers? I'll see that she doesn't suffer the fate of my poor sister!"

  Bob grew moody, and Shorty, after several attempts to draw him into conversation, gave it up and rode in silence the rest of the way.

  They made camp in the grassy flat about midnight, and in the morning they chose a spot for the cabin in the shelter of a wooded hill. They set up the tent and made permanent camp. They let the stock graze in the little flat.

  At once they began hewing the logs and snaking them in to the cabin site. All day they worked, and that night Bob tried to get Shorty to go back to Placerville, the name given their property by Dad Bridger. Shorty insisted on staying another day. Feverishly they worked, and with clocklike precision the trees were felled and trimmed. Again Shorty's argument prevailed and by the next night they had the logs up to the square and several stringers on.

  It was almost dusk and Shorty was on the roof placing a stringer, when he called down excitedly: "Somebody's comin' like hell was after him, Bob!"

  "Come on down, quick! Something's happened! " called Bob.

  It was Jim. He brought his horse to a sliding stop.

  "Claim jumpers!" he shouted. "Dad Bridger's shot! Six of 'em in possession! We got the old man up to yore place, Shorty!"

  The saddle horses were grazing nearby and in five minutes they had them saddled and were headed toward Placerville.

  Two hours later they dismounted from their steaming horses in front of Shorty's cabin.

  The old man was lying on the bed. At first Bob thought him dead, but as he reached down to take hold of his hand Bridger opened his eyes.

  "They got me, Bob. The claim...'s yores. I want yuh...tuh give me a Masonic...funeral...tha...sa...ll "

  Daisy reached down and pulled the cover up over his bearded face.

  Five solemn men stood around the bed, each heavily armed and ready for action. Bob turned to them.

  "Men, the time has come when we must act. We will strike at daybreak; every man will shoot to kill. We're going to retake our claims. Poor Dad. Perhaps in his passing he has done us more good than he could have done by living. Daisy, will you find some pasteboard? I want you to write on it:

  A Call to All Masons in Bannock Territory A Masonic Funeral for a Brother Shot Down in Cold Blood To be held in Placerville, December Fifth.

  "We'll need several of them."

  "What air yuh goin' tuh do with 'em, Bob?"

  "Nail them up in Bannock City, and we'll send word around to the miners' claims. Use the lead of a bullet to write them with."

  Just before dawn five grim men headed by Pokerface Bob, the Vigilante, worked their way through the timber overlooking the jumped claims. In the very edge of the timber they stopped.

  "Now, men," whispered Bob, "form a half circle, each about ten yards from the other. When I give the signal, open fire."

  There were five men sitting around a small fire not more than fifty paces away. Bob's men had gone scarcely half a dozen yards when there came a shot from one of the guards on their right. Instantly the men about the fire flung themselves on their bellies. Two more shots followed from the same source. Bob got a fleeting glance of the sniper and let him have it. That shot gave their location away, and the men about the fire started shooting in their direction.

  Bob and his men took cover behind rocks and opened a fusillade of hot lead into the enemy's ranks. Gradually slipping from cover one at a time to gain a few yards, they dropped to shoot again. The enemy was keeping up a stiff resistance as they wriggled backward toward the shelter of a deep gully.

  Foreseeing their intention, Bob leaped from cover to flank them on the left; a bullet fanned his face from the extreme left. He dropped and began peppering the brush from where the shot had come. The shots ceased from that direction.

  Then he gave his attention to the two left near the fire. Shorty was almost on top of them when they disappeared over the bank and ran down the creek for cover. Bob and his men charged in a body, but they saw no more of the fugitives. Two of the enemy lay dead by the fire. A moment later they heard the falling of rocks as horses scrambled to the creek bank out of range half a mile below.

  "I'm goin' tuh foller right intuh their den!" Shorty yelled, running for his horse.

  "Me, too!" Pete shouted, following Shorty.

  Bob stooped down and turned the nearest body over. He stepped back with a gasp.

  "Good God! It's John Lee!"

  22

  ON THE THIRD OF DECEMBER IT BEGAN TO SNOW, first in big heavy flakes that whisked through the air to light, melt, and disappear. The grey clouds, obliterating the sun, closed in about the wooded hills, making the black woods appear like a hazy portent of evil through the storm. The proud young Bannock City became enshrouded by a white mist that covered it like a smoke screen.

  On a table in the cabin on the hillside two plates were laid. Bacon, once sizzling hot on the stove hearth, was jellying in the white grease. The coffee still simmered in the pot on the back of the stove.

  Dixie Lee, standing by the window, sighed deeply. John had been gone a day and a night without sending any word. "Surely," she thought, "he will be home for breakfast." She didn't know what to make of him of late. Since he had been made deputy to Plummer he talked little and never gave her any information as to his or their business. She felt that she had stood about all that was humanly possible.

  Added to her worries over her father was the misery and heartache caused by Bob Bainbridge when he had surprised her by his unexpected call. She regretted now that she had refused to see him. She had secretly hoped that he would return, but evidently he had taken her at her word. She was miserable. Somehow she felt this morning that she needed Bob more than at any other time in her life. If he'd only come back and explain she'd gladly listen and forgive.

  She turned to the small table, pushed it back against the wall, and set the bacon untouched in the cupboard. She had no appetite this morning. She felt as though she would never want to eat again.

  There came a gentle tapping at the door. For a moment her heart stood still. Her first thought was of Bob. She tucked in a straggling flaxen lock and went to the door.

  "Good mornin'," came a woman's voice. "You're Dixie Lee, aren't you?"

  Dixie stared at her speechless. "Never mind getting excited, gal. Won't you invite me in? I'm just Daisy Windless. There's no call to get excited."

  "Why, of course. Come in," Dixie invited. "I was just surprised to see you--a woman coming to see me. We'll have a cup of coffee together."

  Daisy shook the snow from her cloak and threw it on the back of a chair. "I'm right glad to see you, Dixie. I've k
nown you were here, but never had time to call before. This morning I had to come, and a good thing it was, too. If the men folks knew I came over here I don't know what they'd say. But I'm taking the chance for your happiness, Miss Dixie."

  "But why should anyone care about my happiness?" Dixie was troubled.

  "Oh, my man Shorty wouldn't care. But I was thinking about Bob."

  "Bob?" Dixie's face was ashen.

  "Sure. Bob Bainbridge. He's proud, is Bob, and he wouldn't want me meddlin', but then us women's got to hang together. I thought I'd drop a few hints, as it were."

  "If it's anything to do with Bob Bainbridge, I don't want to hear it!"

  "Sure, I'm not blamin' you, Dixie. But just the same you're going to hear what I've got to say, whether you like it or not. I know you're dead stuck on one another, and nothin' but pride stands in your way. I know you think Bob sent the Vigilantes to wipe out the shebang where you and your father was living. But that ain't so, gal. He was dead sick on his back in Lewiston. He didn't tell no one about you because well, Bob is like that when it comes to women--bashful. When he heard about it he nearly went crazy, and he followed, even when he wasn't in no ways in any condition to ride."

  "But why did he marry Mrs. Ford?" Dixie countered.

  "Someone's been stuffing you, child! " Daisy scolded. "Before we left Oro Fino we had a letter from Bill Beechy and him and Mrs. Ford are married. Bob would never marry anyone but you, Dixie. If the truth's known, he's eatin' his heart out this here minute for you. He declares he's goin' to get you out of the clutches of this gang if he has to murder the lot of them and take you against your will."

  "Oh, Daisy, and to think he came here and I wouldn't see him, wouldn't listen to him! I even told him I hated him!"

  "No tears, now, child. I've got a scheme, but you must never give me away. Bob would never forgive me, and he is the whitest man, except my Shorty, that ever forked a horse. You write a little note to him asking him to call because you need him. Then just see how quick he comes."