Rimfire

by William W. Johnstone

  When the alarm had gone out about the smoke circulating through the boat, the man at the wheel in the pilothouse had sent the Missouri Belle angling toward the closest shore, so the passengers wouldn’t have to swim as far if they had to get off.

  With the fire out, the smoke clearing, and word relayed to the captain that the boat wasn’t in any real danger, it chugged back out to the deepest part of the stream where it wasn’t as likely to get hung up on a sandbar, which could be a real problem in the upper reaches of the Missouri.

  By the time the sun was up, it was obvious that Jack Haggarty was no longer onboard. The fact that the riverboat had kept moving meant it was well upstream from where he had left the boat. Tracking him would be just about impossible, even if Ace and Chance were able to convince the captain to turn back, which was highly unlikely.

  Chance fumed as he paced up and down the deck. “It’s not so much the value of that so-called treasure. I just hate to let somebody get the best of me.”

  “Like that fella Krauss and his watch from Leland Stanford, back at the beginning of this trip?” Ace suggested.

  “It’s not the same thing at all,” snapped Chance, then he stopped his pacing and grinned ruefully. “Well, I guess it’s kind of the same, isn’t it?”

  Ace returned the grin and shrugged. “At least you’ve still got the money you won off Haggarty, plus the rest of your winnings.”

  Thinking about that seemed to make Chance feel better. “Yeah, it’s been a pretty profitable trip so far, hasn’t it? I reckon we’ve got a bigger stake right now than we’ve had for a long, long time. We won’t have to worry about money again for at least six months.”

  “If we were careful, I’ll bet we could make it last a year,” said Ace.

  “Yeah, but where’s the fun in being careful?”

  Ace didn’t have an answer for that question, and the fact that Chance had asked it was a good example of the fundamental differences between the brothers, even though they were twins. That kinship didn’t mean they thought alike. Probably, they never would.

  “We should reach Fort Benton in another hour or so,” Ace said. “I guess we should go back to our cabin and get all our gear together.”

  Chance nodded in agreement. As they walked along the deck, he said under his breath, “I still wonder what that blasted treasure was.”

  “I don’t reckon we’ll ever know,” Ace said.

  “Unless we run into Haggarty again one of these days. It could happen.”

  It certainly could, thought Ace, remembering what Steve Drake had said about the frontier being a smaller place in many ways than people would have expected.

  He hadn’t locked the cabin when he rushed out earlier to see what all the commotion was about. He hoped nobody had gotten in there and stolen any of their things. There wasn’t anything all that valuable in the cabin—Chance carried their stake in a money belt strapped around his waist, under his clothes—but Ace didn’t want to lose his hat or his rifle or his gunbelt. He had some books in his warbag he probably wouldn’t be able to replace in Fort Benton, either.

  The door was closed as they approached. Had he left it that way? He couldn’t remember, but he thought he had been in such a hurry that he’d left it open. That didn’t bode well, he thought with a slight frown.

  Somebody might be in there, pawing through their things, he realized, making him close his hand around the butt of the Colt tucked in his waistband.

  “What’s wrong with you?” asked Chance.

  “I’m pretty sure I left the door open.”

  “Well, that wasn’t a very smart thing to do, was it?”

  “Maybe not, but I was kind of in a hurry. You know, thinking the boat was on fire and all.”

  “Yeah, that could make a fella act a mite hasty, all right.” Chance moved his coat aside a little to make it easier to reach the gun in his shoulder holster. “You’re thinking somebody might be in there? A thief, maybe?”

  “Can’t rule it out. Let’s keep our eyes open when we go in.”

  Chance nodded. He hung back a little as Ace wrapped his fingers around the knob then looked at him. Chance nodded for him to go ahead.

  Ace twisted the knob, threw the door open, and went through it fast, ready to pull the revolver if he needed to. His brother was close behind him. Ace stopped so abruptly that Chance bumped into him.

  Chance exclaimed, “What—” He fell silent as Ace moved aside a step to let him see what was waiting for them inside the cabin.

  A young woman sat on the bunk staring at them, her dark, almond-shaped eyes wide with surprise and fear.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “P-Please,” she said, her English slow and halting. “Do not . . . shoot this lowly one.”

  “Son of a—” exclaimed a startled Chance, stopping himself just before the rest of the oath escaped from his lips.

  Ace could only stare back at the young woman. He was just as surprised as she and his brother obviously were.

  The fact that a woman was in their cabin where she didn’t belong was unexpected enough. The fact that she was young and very attractive made the situation even more astonishing. Throw in her long, sleek hair which was as dark as a raven’s wing, her delicately slanted eyes, her intriguingly lovely face, her smooth golden skin, and the odd-looking trousers and tunic she wore, and the whole thing was downright flabbergasting.

  “You’re Chinese,” Chance said as if he had just figured out a great mystery.

  “An Oriental . . .” Ace mused. His eyes widened even more as he looked over at his brother just as Chance looked at him. They said the next words together. “A golden Oriental treasure!”

  From the bunk, the young woman said, “You are not going to . . . shoot this one?”

  “Wait. What?” Chance said. “Of course we’re not going to shoot you! Where’d you get a loco idea like that?”

  Ace looked down and realized he still had his hand wrapped around the Colt’s butt. He let go of it in a hurry and held up both hands, palms out toward the young woman. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to hurt you. You, uh, do speak English, don’t you?”

  “Of course she speaks English,” said Chance. “She’s been asking us not to shoot her, hasn’t she?”

  The young woman nodded. “This one speaks English.” She didn’t seem quite as scared, although her body was still tense and stiff as she sat on the bunk watching the Jensen brothers. Her eyes darted back and forth between them.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Chance, speaking slowly and a little more loudly than necessary.

  “You do not have to shout, kind sir. This one understands you quite well.”

  “Oh. Uh, sorry,” Chance said, looking a mite sheepish.

  “You still need to tell us what you’re doing here.” Ace could tell from the way his brother was looking at the woman that he found her attractive. Most any man would, but pretty girls tended to distract Chance quite a bit.

  “This one was told to come here and wait.”

  “Told by who?” asked Ace.

  “Jack Haggarty, I’ll bet,” said Chance.

  The young woman nodded. “It was Mr. Jack. He was this one’s master.”

  “Master?” Chance repeated.

  “Yes. This one belonged to Mr. Jack. This one was his . . . how do you say it? His slave.”

  “Oh, no,” Chance responded as he started to shake his head. “This is America. We don’t have any masters and slaves. We fought a whole war amongst ourselves about that.”

  “And other things,” Ace added. “But my brother’s right about us not having slaves anymore. If Haggarty told you that we do, he was lying to you.”

  The young woman’s face and voice were tightly controlled as she replied, “In this one’s homeland, there are few masters and many slaves. It is the custom of our people, and where we are makes no difference.”

  “The hell it doesn’t!” Chance took off his hat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Let me get this straigh
t. You’re the Oriental treasure he bet in that poker game last night?”

  “Good fortune was not with him. He told this one that she now belongs to you, in payment of the debt he owed you.”

  “Belongs to—wait. No, this is crazy!”

  “You are the one called Chance Jensen, are you not?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Then this one is now yours to do with as you will,” she said, smiling serenely, evidently happy that the matter had been settled, at least in her own mind.

  Chance turned to his brother. “Ace, what in blazes are we gonna do about this?”

  Ace rubbed his chin and frowned in thought. After a moment he asked, “What’s your name?”

  “This one is called Ling.”

  “I’m Ace, and you already know this is my brother Chance. Now listen, Miss Ling—”

  “Just Ling,” she told him. “You should not refer to this lowly one with a term of respect.”

  “Well, we were raised to respect women,” Ace explained. “All women.”

  “Not slaves,” Ling said with a stubborn shake of her head.

  “But you’re not a slave.”

  “This one cannot change the fate to which she was born.” She looked intently at Chance and went on. “Mr. Chance, this one will be your slave from now until the day she dies, unless you sell her or trade her first.”

  “Well, that’s just . . . Arrgghh!” Chance threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s not the way we do things here! Anyway”—he clapped his hat back on his head, pushed his coat back, put his hands on his hips, and glared at her—“I was promised a treasure worth two thousand bucks.”

  Ling’s bottom lip quivered as she said, “This one will endeavor to be a suitable payment of Mr. Haggarty’s debt. This one is an excellent servant and can cook and clean and mend clothing and . . . and”—she lowered her gaze to the floor as she went on in a whisper—“and there are other services this one can perform as well, if needed.”

  Chance’s eyes widened. He opened his hands and thrust them out toward her as if to push her away as he said, “Now wait just a minute! Nobody, uh, nobody said anything about anything like that! We may not be the most respectable hombres you ever ran into, but we’re gentlemen, dadblast it!”

  “One of us is, anyway.” Ace didn’t know whether to be confounded or amused or troubled by this situation, so he settled for being a little of all those things.

  “You’re not helping,” Chance said through clenched teeth.

  “All right. Let’s figure this out. Haggarty knew you wouldn’t accept this young lady as settlement of your bet, so he set those rags on fire in that bucket to smoke up the boat and raise a ruckus. He slipped away in the confusion and swam ashore after telling Miss Ling to come down here and wait for us.” Ace frowned. “Why didn’t he just take the girl with him?”

  He hadn’t directed the question to Ling, but she answered anyway. “This one cannot swim,” she said solemnly. “And she believes that Mr. Haggarty had grown tired of her and no longer wished for her to be his slave.”

  “Well, if that’s true, then he’s a damn fool,” said Chance. “I mean . . . I don’t mean—I mean, he shouldn’t have wanted you to be his slave, but as a, uh, traveling companion . . . well, any fella who didn’t want somebody as pretty and charming as you around . . . he’s a damn fool, like I said!”

  “I guess it costs some to have a slave,” Ace said. “You’ve got to feed ’em and all.”

  “This one does not eat much,” Ling assured them. “This one is very . . . what is the word? . . . inexpensive.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Chance said, his voice curt. “We’re not keeping you.”

  Ling stared at him for a couple heartbeats, then put her hands over her face and began to cry.

  “Now, hold on, hold on!” Chance said hastily. He turned to look at his brother. “Give me a hand here, blast it. This whole mess has got me so bumfuzzled I can’t think straight!”

  “All right.” Ace moved over to the bunk and raised his hand as if he were about to pat Ling on the shoulder. Then he thought better of it and lowered his arm. “Miss Ling, there’s no need for you to cry.”

  Between sobs, she said, “But . . . if Mr. Chance is not this one’s master . . . where will this one go? What will she do?”

  “You know, it’s really confusing when you talk about yourself like that,” Chance told her, which just made matters worse because she started to cry harder.

  Ace glared at him.

  Chance spread his hands and asked, “What did I do?”

  Ace ignored the question. “Miss Ling, if you’ll settle down, we’ll try to figure out what to do next. For one thing, the boat will be getting to Fort Benton soon. We’ll all get off there and maybe talk to the law or something.” He looked around. “Do you have a bag or any other personal belongings with you?”

  Ling sniffled and reached under the bunk. She pulled out a canvas sack with a string tied around the top where it was gathered. “This is everything this lowly one owns in this world.”

  “All right, then. You just wait here and we’ll come and get you when the boat docks.”

  She looked up at him with sudden terror in her eyes. “You will leave this one and not come back!”

  Ace shook his head and assured her, “No, we won’t. I give you my word.”

  “No one keeps their word to a slave,” she said bitterly.

  “Well, I’m not saying you’re a slave—I just don’t like that idea—but I keep my word no matter who I give it to.”

  “So do I,” said Chance. “That’s the way we were brought up. You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  That last statement wasn’t strictly true, thought Ace, but at least Ling didn’t have to worry about the Jensen boys lying to her.

  He backed away from her and motioned for her to stay on the bunk. She looked anxious, like she wanted to follow him. Ace caught Chance’s eye and jerked his head toward the cabin door.

  “Do not abandon this one,” Ling pleaded.

  “We won’t,” Chance promised.

  A shudder went through her. “This lowly one does not know how she would survive alone in such a strange, barbaric land.”

  “Well,” Chance said with a shrug, “that’s not necessarily a bad description of Montana Territory.”

  Ace rolled his eyes, took hold of his brother’s shoulder, and steered him out the door.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ace closed the door rather gingerly behind them. The deck wasn’t anywhere near as crowded as it had been earlier, and the sense of panic had faded away along with the smoke.

  Chance strode over to the railing, took his hat off, and raked his fingers through his close-cropped hair. “How in blue blazes do we get ourselves in messes like this?” he demanded.

  “You’re the one who’s got himself a beautiful Chinese slave girl, not me,” Ace pointed out.

  “Hey, we’re brothers, right? We’re in this thing together!”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see. Some things a fella’s got to hash out on his own.” Ace leaned against the rail and peered along the river ahead of them. “But I guess I can give you a hand with this, although for the life of me I can’t think of what to do.”

  “We’ve got to convince that girl she’s not my slave or anybody else’s,” Chance said as he put his hat back on.

  “Yeah, but how? She seems pretty determined that she is.”

  Before Chance could answer that—although from the perplexed, irritated look on his face he didn’t have an answer—someone hailed them, calling, “You two! Jensens!”

  They turned to see a tall, spare man in blue trousers and black jacket striding toward them. He had a tanned, weather-beaten face and crisp white hair under the stiff-billed cap he wore. They recognized Matthew Foley, the captain of the Missouri Belle. Steve Drake had introduced him during the early days of the journey up the Big Muddy.

  “What can we do for you, Captain?” asked Ac
e as Foley strode up to them with an intent, angry look on his hawk-like face.

  “I’m told you two had something to do with that fire earlier,” Foley snapped.

  Ace shook his head quickly and emphatically. “No, sir. We knew the fella who seems to have set it, but that’s all. I’m sure a lot of folks onboard knew him. Plenty played cards with him in the salon the past few nights, including my brother, but that’s our only connection to him.” He traded a quick glance with Chance, having not said anything about Haggarty’s unorthodox way of settling a bet. More than likely, trying to explain about Ling would just confuse the issue.

  “You’re talking about Jack Haggarty?”

  “That’s right,” said Chance. “From the looks of it, he set some greasy rags on fire in a coal bucket in his cabin, intending for the smoke to spread through the boat like it did.”

  Foley stroked his rather pointed chin. “Why the devil would he do that?”

  “He didn’t explain it to us, but we figure he was trying to get out of paying a gambling debt he owed to my brother.” Ace didn’t think they could avoid telling the captain that much, anyway.

  “And where is he now?”

  “We don’t know, because his little trick worked,” said Chance. “I caught a glimpse of him right after the stampede started, but then I never saw him anymore.”

  “He must have slipped overboard and swam ashore, since he’s not on the boat,” added Ace. “We’ve searched it from one end to the other, and so have some of your crewmen.”

  Foley nodded slowly and admitted, “That agrees with what I was told. But one of my men thought it was suspicious that you knew exactly where to look for the source of that smoke.”

  “I wasn’t looking for the source of the smoke when I went into Haggarty’s cabin,” Ace said. “I was looking for Haggarty himself. But then I found the coal bucket, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what he’d done.”

  “So you weren’t in on it with him?” asked the captain, his voice sharp as he looked from brother to brother. “You’re not covering up for him?”