Rimfire

by William W. Johnstone

  From the slight deference in the Australian’s voice and the way he addressed the questioner, Ace figured Mr. Belmont was the boss and spoke right up. “My name is Ace Jensen, Mr. Belmont.”

  “Is that supposed to mean anything to me, son?”

  “No, sir, I don’t imagine it does. I just figured you’d want to know who you’re dealing with.”

  Belmont’s voice held a trace of amusement as he said, “So we’re dealing now, are we?”

  Ace gave a short nod. “Could be. Depends on whether our goals agree with each other.”

  “And what would your goal be?”

  Under the circumstances, until he found out more, Ace figured he had to play it straight. “I just want to recover what was stolen from me.” He still didn’t say anything about Chance. He wanted to protect his brother, and also wanted him to remain on the loose for the time being . . . same as he had explained earlier when they’d split up.

  “McPhee stole something from you, did he?” asked Belmont. “Cattle, maybe? Are you telling me the man’s a rustler?”

  “No, sir. From everything I’ve heard about him, McPhee’s an honest man. But that doesn’t go for his guests. They’re the one who are thieves.”

  “Guests? Who do you think that might be?” Belmont had him backed into a corner.

  Ace could lie, but that might just get him deeper in trouble. He answered honestly, “A man named Jack Haggarty and a young woman called Ling.”

  “They’re the ones you’re after?”

  “That’s right,” Ace replied, knowing the answer might get him a swift bullet if it turned out to be the wrong one.

  Instead, the dark shape that had been addressing him stepped closer, right in front of him, and a hand clapped down heartily on his shoulder. Belmont chuckled. “We need to go somewhere and talk, young man. I think you may have found yourself some allies.”

  Outnumbered as he was by at least six to one, Ace had no choice but to accompany Belmont, Clancy, and the other men through the trees until they reached the other side of the grove, where a man was waiting with horses and a buggy.

  When they emerged from the trees, the light was a little better, and Ace was able to get a look at the men. They appeared to be a mixture of types, some wearing range clothes, others dressed in city garb like Belmont, who turned out to be a thick-bodied man in a suit and a stylish derby hat. He took a cigar from his vest, stuck it in his mouth, and left it unlit as he asked, “Where’s your horse, Ace?”

  “I left him tied up in some trees,” Ace replied, which was true as far as it went.

  “You can retrieve him later . . . if our conversation goes well.”

  That sounded a little ominous, and Ace felt certain Belmont meant it to sound that way. He didn’t say anything to that.

  After a moment Belmont went on. “Tell me what happened with Haggarty and the woman.”

  “I met them on a riverboat—”

  “No, wait,” Belmont interrupted. “Let me tell you. You got in a poker game with Haggarty and wound up cleaning him out, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s what happened,” said Ace, continuing to leave Chance out of the story.

  “So then Haggarty wagered this Oriental treasure he claimed to have,” said Belmont. “Only it turned out to be the woman.”

  “No offense, Mr. Belmont, but you sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  Belmont rolled the cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other and said around it, “Bitter experience, my boy, bitter experience. But I suppose I should let you tell your own story.”

  “There’s not much more to tell. You’re right about what happened with Haggarty. I ‘won’”—Chance paused and gave Belmont a “signifying” look—“the woman, although I reckon he let me win, and Haggarty dropped out of the picture. Then, after we got where we were going, which happened to be Fort Benton, Ling disappeared with all my money, and I found out that she rode out of town with a man matching Haggarty’s description. That’s what happened to you, isn’t it?”

  “Some of the details don’t quite match up, but basically, yes,” said Belmont. “And I daresay they stole considerably more from me than they did from you.”

  “They got two thousand dollars.”

  Belmont took the cigar out of his mouth. “Their take from me was ten times that.”

  Ace let out a low whistle. He couldn’t stop the reaction. Twenty thousand dollars was a hell of a lot of money, more than he had ever seen in one place. Even Doc Monday had never played for stakes that high.

  “If they had that much, why did they even bother stealing from me?”

  “Because they’re thieves, and stealing is what they do,” said Belmont. “It just comes naturally to them. You wouldn’t expect a rattlesnake not to bite, would you?”

  “No, I reckon not,” Ace admitted. “Still, it seems like they should’ve just laid low somewhere.”

  “They may have gone through the loot they took from me. It’s been a while. I wasn’t able to get on their trail right away. I had to hire detectives for that.” Belmont nodded to a couple of the men with him.

  “And they led you here?” Ace asked.

  “That’s right. I assume you trailed Haggarty and his accomplice from Fort Benton?”

  “Yeah.” Ace paused. “You called Ling an accomplice. You reckon Haggarty’s the one behind the whole scheme?”

  “That seems reasonable to me. Ling’s a young woman. I’m not sure she has the experience to come up with the game they play. Her job is simply to blind the chosen victim with her beauty and charm.”

  “And to actually steal the money.”

  “Which Haggarty ordered her to do,” said Belmont.

  The way he defended Ling told Ace that the older man had fallen for her just the way McPhee evidently had. She hadn’t had to go that far with the Jensen brothers and make either of them fall in love with her because she had gotten her hands on their money so quickly. However, Ace had no doubt that she would have done whatever was necessary to get what she wanted.

  “So you came all the way from San Francisco to catch up to them, even though you may not be able to get your money back?”

  “Who told you I’m from San Francisco?” Belmont asked sharply. “You recognized my name? Leo Belmont. Clancy, did you say anything?”

  “Nary a word about where we’re from, Mr. Belmont,” Clancy replied. “I swear it.”

  “I’ve been to San Francisco a few times,” Ace explained. “I recognized Mr. Clancy’s accent as Australian and figured that maybe he was from there.”

  “Ah, because of the Sydney Ducks, you mean,” said Clancy. “My father was a member, back in the old days. Just a lad he was, but he managed to survive those damn vigilantes.”

  “That’s enough,” said Belmont. “No need to bore young Ace here with a lot of history. It’s true that I’m from San Francisco. I brought some of my employees with me and hired a few more men when we got out here in Montana Territory. It seemed like some men who were more familiar with the area might come in handy.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Ace.

  “I’m glad you agree,” Belmont said dryly. “Do you know the area?”

  “Not that well, but I can find my way around.”

  “How handy are you with a gun?”

  “I’m a fair hand with one,” said Ace. That was an understatement. He and Chance had been born with a natural ability to get a gun out fast and fire it accurately. Neither of them was in the same league with the famous gunfighter Smoke Jensen—who had the same last name but was no relation as far as the brothers knew—but they were better than most men when it came to gunplay.

  Belmont put the cigar back in his mouth and said, “I can always use a good man.”

  “To do what, exactly?”

  “Help me get back what’s mine, or at least to settle the score with Haggarty.”

  “You don’t plan on hurting Ling?”

  “I don’t make war on women,” Belmont
said curtly. “Besides, like I told you, I’m convinced that Haggarty is the mastermind of that duo.”

  “I wouldn’t want to see her get hurt, either. The main thing I’m interested in is getting my two thousand back.”

  “I can make that happen if you throw in with us.”

  Clancy said, “Boss, you don’t really know this dodger . . .”

  “We have something in common, though. Two things, actually . . . an enemy and a goal. So what do you say, young Mr. Jensen? Are you with us . . . ?” The unspoken remainder of that question was obvious, and it left room for only one answer.

  “I’ll throw in with you, Mr. Belmont,” Ace said.

  “Excellent! You can go back and get your horse.”

  Ace’s spirits rose. That would give him an opportunity to tell Chance what was going on.

  Belmont added, “Clancy, you go with him. Meet us back in Rimfire.”

  That dashed Ace’s hopes and added another complication. He and Chance had planned to avoid Rimfire in case some of McPhee’s men were there. McPhee might have given them orders to shoot on sight if the Jensen brothers showed up in town.

  He would deal with that when the time came, he decided. Outnumbered as he was, all he could do was play along with Belmont’s plans and try to find a way to tip off Chance as to what was going on.

  “Here you go, mate,” Clancy said as he handed Ace’s gun back to him.

  Ace wrapped his fingers around the Colt’s smooth walnut grips and felt a little better about the situation.

  If things went to hell, at least he could put up a fight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Belmont climbed into the buggy and grasped the reins while the rest of his men mounted up, with the exception of Clancy.

  The Australian took the reins of one of the horses but didn’t swing up into the saddle. “I’ll lead the beast. Quieter that way. Well, let’s go, lad. Take me back to where you left your horse.”

  Ace set off through the night, circling wide around the ranch headquarters. As they walked, he asked, “What is it you do for Mr. Belmont?”

  Clancy laughed shortly. “Whatever it is that he needs done.”

  “What business is he in?”

  Clancy’s tone hardened. “Now you’re diggin’ into things that are none o’ your concern, my young friend. I thought you frontiersmen made a habit o’ not asking about a gent’s past.”

  “You’re right. It’s none of my business, and we’ll just leave it that way.”

  “Aye, ’twould be wise.”

  Clancy’s reaction told Ace that the hunch he had was probably correct. Having a grandfather in the notorious criminal gang known as the Sydney Ducks didn’t make Clancy a crook, but the possibility certainly existed. The fact that Belmont would hire detectives to track down Haggarty and Ling and then come all the way up to Montana to seek vengeance told Ace that the man was ruthless and accustomed to getting his own way. Taken together, those things told him that odds were, Leo Belmont was a shady character at best, a member of San Francisco’s underworld at worst.

  And that was the man who’d become Ace’s newfound ally, although not exactly by his own choosing.

  Clancy and Ace approached the spot where he’d left Chance. Coming at it from a slightly different direction, Ace wasn’t exactly sure where his brother was. Not wanting the gunman to stumble over Chance, Ace raised his voice a little. “That horse of mine ought to be around here somewhere.”

  “Not so loud,” warned Clancy. “You don’t want McPhee’s men to hear you. We can’t be sure that everybody’s asleep.”

  “No, I reckon not, Mr. Clancy.”

  The Australian snorted. “Clancy’s my first name, and it’s the only one you need to know. No mister about it.”

  “Sure.”

  If Chance was in earshot, that exchange was bound to puzzle him considerably. Ace could only hope that his brother would realize he was trying to tip him off.

  He heard a noise ahead of them as something shifted in the brush, and then a horse made a snuffling sound. “There he is.”

  A moment later, he spotted a dark shape under the trees that he took to be his chestnut. The horse nudged his nose against Ace’s shoulder as the young man walked up. He didn’t see Chance or the other horse but suspected they were still nearby.

  Acting on that assumption, Ace said, “Mr. Belmont told us to head for Rimfire, right?” That would tell Chance where they were going.

  “Aye. We should be there before mornin’.”

  “That’s good. McPhee’s men know who I am, and they’ve got a grudge against me. I may have to lie low and stay out of sight until Mr. Belmont’s ready to make his move against Haggarty and Ling.”

  Ace was filling in his brother as best he could. He knew Chance was quick-witted enough to grasp the situation from the seemingly innocuous comments.

  “You just do what the boss says, and you’ll be all right,” Clancy told him.

  The two of them mounted up.

  Ace said, “I could use a gun belt for this Colt, and I’ll need a rifle, too. McPhee’s hardcases stole my Winchester.”

  “I reckon we can fix you up with those things. You can pay Mr. Belmont back once you’ve recovered what that slant-eyed witch stole from you.”

  “Sounds like you must not have cared very much for Ling,” Ace commented.

  Clancy spat. “I never really trusted her, I’ll say that much. But the boss, once he laid eyes on her, well, he couldn’t really think straight where she was concerned. You’ve seen the girl. You know what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “Yeah, I do. I surely do.”

  They rode off, heading north toward the settlement. Chance was somewhere behind them, and Ace couldn’t help but wonder what his brother would do next.

  * * *

  Chance waited until the sound of hoofbeats had faded away completely before he emerged from the thick shadows under the trees where he had retreated when he’d heard Ace approaching and talking to somebody. He had stood there with his hand over his horse’s nose to keep the animal from whinnying while he listened to the puzzling conversation between his brother and the man with the Australian accent.

  Who in blazes was Clancy, and why did Ace sound like they were partners? he wondered. And who was that fellow Belmont? Somebody who had a grudge against Haggarty and Ling, obviously, but Chance didn’t know any more than that.

  He had no answers for those questions, but he’d been able to tell from Ace’s tone of voice that his brother was trying to warn him. As far as Clancy and Belmont knew, Ace was alone, and he wanted to keep it that way for the time being. Chance had to play along.

  Once Ace and Clancy had ridden off, Chance mounted up and proceeded slowly in the same direction.

  If Ace was headed for Rimfire, that was where Chance was going, too.

  * * *

  It was well after midnight by the time Ace and Clancy rode into town. They went to the livery stable, where a sleepy, grizzled old hostler took their mounts without seeming to pay much attention to who they were.

  Ace got his first good look at Clancy while they were in the livery stable. The man’s rawboned frame was an inch or two taller than Ace. He had a rumpled thatch of rusty red hair under a pushed-back plug hat. He also sported a handlebar mustache of the same shade. He wore a brown tweed suit and a collarless shirt with no tie. He looked like a bruiser, but Ace recalled that Clancy was able to move almost soundlessly when he wanted to. That took a surprising amount of grace for a big man.

  They went from the livery stable to the Dobbs House hotel, which was across the street and a block down from the Branding Iron Saloon, McPhee’s headquarters whenever he was in the settlement. The saloon was still lit up and piano music spilled from it. There was a good chance some of McPhee’s men were inside, but there was also a good chance they wouldn’t encounter any in the hotel.

  “We’ll go in the back,” said Clancy as he turned down the alley beside the hotel.

  Clanc
y led up the rear stairs to the second floor and along the corridor. “The boss has a suite up here. I want to let him know that we’re back.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Ace agreed. He wanted to get a better look at Leo Belmont, too.

  Clancy stopped at one of the doors and rapped softly on it.

  From the other side of the panel, Belmont called, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, boss,” Clancy replied. “I’ve got that Jensen boy with me.”

  “Come on in.”

  Clancy opened the door. As they stepped inside, Ace saw Belmont slip a small revolver back into the pocket of the jacket he wore. He was a careful man who greeted visitors with a gun in his hand.

  Belmont was stocky, with a beefy face and tightly curled salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were set in pits of gristle and tiny scars around them and his mouth showed that he had been in plenty of fights in his time.

  Whatever position in life Belmont occupied now, thought Ace, he had risen to it the hard way.

  It was no wonder that he hadn’t felt in a forgiving mood when Ling had disappeared with twenty thousand dollars of his money. Forgiveness probably wasn’t in his nature.

  “Any problems?” Belmont asked.

  “Not for us,” Clancy reported, “and everything looks quiet here in town.”

  “It is,” Belmont agreed. “For now.”

  Ace said, “If you don’t mind me asking a question, Mr. Belmont . . . ?”

  “Go ahead,” the man said with a wave of his hand.

  “How many men do you have working for you?”

  “Fifteen,” Belmont answered without hesitation. “Why?”

  “McPhee has at least twice that many, probably more if you count all the regular hands who work on his ranch.”

  Belmont didn’t seem impressed. “I’m not worried about a bunch of cowboys.”

  “No offense, sir, but a lot of those fellas who ride for McPhee aren’t what you’d call cowboys. They’re gun-wolves, plain and simple. And they’re probably a match for anybody you have working for you.”

  Clancy snorted contemptuously. “Nobody’s tougher than a Barbary Coast man,” he boasted.