Rimfire

by William W. Johnstone

  “Maybe not, but they’ll have you outnumbered.”

  Belmont took out another cigar. Unlike earlier, he clipped the end off and lit it, turning the cylinder in the match flame until it was burning evenly. He dragged in a deep breath and blew out the smoke. “What are you getting at, Jensen?”

  Several thoughts were percolating around in Ace’s brain, possible ways he could turn this complication to his and Chance’s advantage. “If you plan to make any sort of move against Haggarty and Ling, you’re liable to lose if you go up directly against McPhee.” He glanced at Clancy. “No matter how good you are, it’s hard to win when you’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

  Clancy glared at him.

  Belmont asked with an arrogant smirk, “What would you suggest, then?”

  “Haggarty and Ling are guests at McPhee’s ranch. If you could get him into town on business, he’d probably bring some of his men with him. The odds against your men would then be better if they made a move on the ranch.”

  Belmont frowned and seemed to be taking Ace more seriously as he asked, “You think McPhee would leave the two of them out there?”

  “I believe there’s a good chance he would. They don’t have anything to do with his business, after all. As far as he knows, it’s just a social visit they’re making.”

  Belmont chewed on the cigar a second before he said, “They’re after his money. She will use her wiles on him, and he won’t know what’s going on until it’s too late.”

  More than likely, Belmont was describing exactly what had happened to him back in San Francisco, although he either didn’t realize it or didn’t care.

  “What you really need to do if you can get McPhee away from the ranch,” Ace said, “is to send just a few men out there—three or four—to grab Haggarty and get him out without anyone knowing. Then you could force him to give your money back to you. Or however much of it he has left, anyway.”

  “And I suppose you think you should be one of those men,” scoffed Clancy.

  “As a matter of fact—”

  “Wait a minute.” Belmont held up a hand to stop him. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

  Clancy objected. “Boss, I don’t know—”

  “It’s starting to become pretty clear to me that Jensen has a good head on his shoulders,” Belmont went on as if he hadn’t heard the objection Clancy had started to raise. “And he’s familiar with this part of the country.”

  “You’ve known him two hours!”

  Belmont didn’t look happy that one of his employees would speak to him that way. He snapped, “I can size up a man in two minutes, if I need to. Besides, at least half of our men are ones that I hired in Denver. I don’t really know any of them, either. Besides, Jensen’s got a personal stake in this. He wants to get his hands on Haggarty almost as much as I do.”

  “That’s true, I reckon,” said Ace.

  Clancy didn’t look happy about it, but obviously there was a limit to how much he was willing to argue with his boss. “You’re callin’ the shots, Mr. Belmont. I’ll go along with whatever you decide, and I’ll make it work, too.”

  “Yes, I know I can count on you, Clancy.” Belmont turned his attention back to Ace. “What do you say, young man?”

  “I need a gun belt and a Winchester. Clancy said you could probably fix me up.”

  Belmont nodded. “Of course. We’ll see to it first thing in the morning. What else?”

  Ace started to shrug and say that was all, but then he suggested, “Can you guarantee I get my two thousand back?”

  A bark of harsh laughter came from Belmont. “Two thousand dollars? Yes, I think I can guarantee that. Getting my revenge on Jack Haggarty is worth more than that to me. A lot more.” One of Belmont’s hands clenched into a fist. “I don’t like being betrayed. I won’t tolerate it.”

  Figuring that anger was directed more at Ling than at Haggarty, Ace worried what he was letting himself in for by throwing in with Belmont. He wasn’t going to allow Belmont to harm the young woman, no matter what she had done.

  Knowing he stood a better chance of being able to protect her by pretending to work with Belmont, he realized he needed to keep up the ruse. “In that case, I reckon I’m in.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  As second in command, Clancy had a room of his own at the Dobbs House, and he insisted that Ace share it with him. “It ain’t that I don’t trust you, mate, it’s just that I want to be sure you won’t be tryin’ to pull any sort o’ tricky double cross.”

  “Like you said before, Clancy, we’re on the same side,” Ace assured him.

  “We’ll see.”

  The night passed quietly, and in the morning Clancy had one of the other men bring some breakfast up from the dining room for both of them.

  “You said you wanted to stay out o’ sight, so that’s what we’re doin’,” Clancy explained. “I told one of the boys to fetch you a gun belt, too, and to put a rifle with your saddle and other gear over at the livery stable.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control,” Ace commented.

  “That’s my job,” Clancy said flatly. “I take care o’ things for Mr. Belmont. You’d be well advised not to forget it.”

  “I don’t figure you’ll let me,” said Ace with a faint smile.

  When the man arrived with the gun belt, Ace buckled it on and slipped the Colt into the holster. Having the gun’s weight back on his right hip where it was supposed to be felt good. Despite his relatively young age, he had been packing iron for quite a few years and had gotten used to having it there.

  “So, now you’re a gunfighter again,” said Clancy in a slightly mocking tone.

  Ace shook his head. “No, I’m not a gunfighter. I’ve met some of them, and I’m not on their level. I do all right, though.”

  The man who had brought the gun belt handed a flat-crowned black hat to Ace. “Thought you might like this, too.”

  “Thanks. My head was feeling a mite bare.” Ace put on the hat. “How does it look?”

  “Jaunty as all hell,” Clancy said dryly. “Come on. Let’s go talk to Mr. Belmont.”

  The man from San Francisco was having breakfast in his room, too. He had an empty plate in front of him on the table and was leaned back in a chair, wearing a silk robe and sipping coffee from a china cup. “Good morning,” he greeted Ace and Clancy. “The hat and the gunbelt make a different, Jensen. You’re starting to look like a hardcase.”

  Ace hadn’t shaved in a couple days, so he was sporting a considerable amount of dark stubble. It wasn’t an image he usually cultivated—normally he was so clean-cut it was annoying, according to Chance—but it might come in handy.

  Ace nodded curtly to Belmont. “Feel a lot better packing iron the right way.”

  Belmont didn’t offer them any coffee. Ace supposed the thought never even occurred to the man.

  Belmont said, “I did some thinking about what you suggested last night, Jensen. I’ve written a note to Angus McPhee, introducing myself and asking him to meet me here in town. I told him I’m looking to start a ranch in the area and that I’d like to talk to him about buying some cattle to start my herd.” Belmont laughed. “I tried to come across as a bit naïve about such things. If McPhee’s like every other Scotsman I’ve ever met, he’ll jump at the chance to get the best of someone in a business deal. I’ll send a man out to his ranch with the note, and I won’t be surprised if McPhee comes into town this afternoon to try to rook me.”

  Ace nodded. “That sounds like it ought to work, all right. And while McPhee’s here in Rimfire . . .”

  “You and Clancy and a couple other men will be out at his ranch, grabbing Jack Haggarty. Don’t kill him, though. I want him alive until I get my money back. As much of it as I can, anyway. And I want him to suffer for thinking he can steal from me and get away with it.”

  “What about the woman?” asked Clancy.

  Ace had been about to ask the same thing, but it was probably bette
r that the question came from Clancy, he thought.

  “She’s just Haggarty’s pawn,” responded Belmont with a shrug, “but bring her along with you if you can. If McPhee has reacted to her the same way most men do, he won’t want any harm coming to her. As long as she’s in our hands, he’ll be less likely to make a move against us.”

  “Makes sense, boss,” Clancy said, nodding. He glanced at Ace. “You got that, Jensen?”

  “Clear as can be,” Ace told them.

  “We’ll have to wait to get word from McPhee, so we’ll know what his plans are,” Belmont said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

  Ace and Clancy returned to the room where they had spent the night. Clancy dug a greasy pack of cards out of his bag and slapped it down on the room’s small table. “I fancy a game of blackjack,” he said in a tone that didn’t allow for any argument. “Nickel a hand.”

  “All right,” said Ace. Chance was better at blackjack than he was, the same as all the other card games, but Ace knew how to play and didn’t mind doing so to pass the time. “I may have to give you an IOU, though, since I’m just about broke until I get my money back from Haggarty and Ling.”

  “I don’t mind takin’ your marker.” Clancy’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a grin that was half-snarl. “I know where to find you if you try to run out on me, mate.”

  * * *

  In some trees about a quarter mile from Rimfire, Chance had made camp the night before and spent some restless hours dozing in his bedroll. He didn’t like not knowing for sure that his brother was all right.

  Riding openly into town would be asking for trouble, though, so all he could do was keep an eye on the settlement. If it was at all possible, Ace would tip him off about what was going on. Until then, Chance would have to be patient.

  Once the sun was up, he risked a tiny, almost smokeless fire, knowing that it wouldn’t be seen behind the screen of trees, so he was able to boil coffee and fry some bacon. That made him feel a little better.

  As he hunkered on his heels next to the now-cold fire and sipped the last of the coffee, he rasped a hand over his unshaven chin. He didn’t like wearing the same clothes day after day and being scruffy. His appearance mattered to him. He had always enjoyed being sharply dressed and well-groomed.

  At the moment, however, there were a lot more important things to consider, such as both of them surviving and getting their hands on the money that had been stolen from them.

  Chance was confident that Ace was working on that.

  * * *

  Belmont’s messenger was back from the Tartan Ranch by early afternoon.

  Belmont summoned Ace and Clancy and told them, “McPhee’s going to come to Rimfire this afternoon, and he wants to have dinner with me here at the hotel this evening. This is perfect. He’ll probably spend the night. In fact, I’ll string him along enough that he’ll have to spend the night.”

  “What if he brings Haggarty and the girl into Rimfire with him?” asked Clancy.

  “When he’s coming to talk business?” Belmont shook his head and waved off that idea. “Not likely. But if he does, we’ll wait and come up with some other plan. I’ve put off settling the score with those two for this long, I can let it go for a while longer if need be.” His voice hardened. “But not too much longer. Judgment Day’s coming for Jack Haggarty.”

  Ace noticed that once again Belmont didn’t include Ling in his vow of vengeance. He might be angry at her, but he blamed Haggarty for what had happened. It sounded like Belmont didn’t intend to hurt her. Ace hoped that was the case.

  Belmont went on. “You can pick out the other two men you want to take with you, Clancy, then the four of you go ahead and slip out of town. You can ride out to McPhee’s ranch while he’s on his way to Rimfire. Just be careful that you don’t run into him on the way.”

  Clancy nodded. “I understand, boss. I’m taking Whistler with me.”

  “A good choice,” agreed Belmont. “What about the other man?”

  “I’m thinking that fella you hired in Denver named Robertson.”

  Belmont frowned. “I don’t recall the name. Which one is he?”

  “Stocky fellow, close-cropped beard.” Clancy grinned. “You’d never look twice at him, that’s why you don’t remember him. But I like his eyes. Cold as ice, they are. He’ll do whatever needs to be done and won’t hesitate, just like Whistler.”

  Clancy glanced at Ace, who read the challenge in the Australian’s gaze. Clancy was asking him if he would do whatever needed to be done. He returned the look coolly and levelly.

  After a couple seconds Clancy sneered and turned his attention back to Belmont. “We’re to bring Haggarty and the woman here?”

  Belmont shook his head. “Too risky, with McPhee in the hotel. Take them to the livery stable and keep them there. Send word to me when you get back with them. If Haggarty cooperates and gives my money back to me, there won’t be any reason to hang around here. We can start back to San Francisco . . . as soon as I’ve taught Haggarty a lesson.”

  Considering the marks of past brutality on Belmont’s face, Ace was convinced the man intended to deliver that lesson to Haggarty himself.

  They left Belmont’s suite and went along the corridor to one of the other rooms. Clancy rapped softly on the door. The man who opened it had a lean, fox-like face with shaggy blond hair hanging over his ears. His pale blue eyes had a predatory look to them.

  “Get your gear and come to the livery stable, Whistler,” Clancy told him. “We’re ridin’ out in ten minutes.”

  Whistler nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Clancy knocked on the door of another room. The man who opened it matched the description Clancy had given Belmont.

  “Robertson, you’re comin’ with Jensen, Whistler, and me,” Clancy told him. “Be ready to ride in ten minutes.”

  “Sure,” Robertson replied. His voice was mild and unthreatening, just like his appearance, but Ace felt a slight shiver go through him when he looked in the gunman’s eyes and saw a frigid emptiness that made him think Robertson’s soul must be an arctic wasteland.

  “Need anything else?” Clancy asked Ace as they started toward the stairs.

  “Except for my horse and saddle and that new rifle, everything I own is on me,” said Ace.

  “It’s a smart man who travels light.”

  They went down the rear stairs again and headed for the livery stable, sticking to the back alleys so if any of McPhee’s men were in town, they would be less likely to catch sight of Ace.

  Whistler and Robertson walked in while Ace and Clancy were saddling their horses. Clancy had made good on his promise. There was a Winchester with Ace’s saddle, not a new weapon but one that appeared to be in fine shape. It fired the same round as his Colt, and there was a full box of cartridges, too.

  Ace kept the hat pulled low over his eyes to obscure his face as the four of them rode out of Rimfire. No one yelled behind them, and no shots rang out, so he assumed they had been successful in keeping him from being spotted.

  Once they were out of the settlement, Ace looked around at the Montana landscape, not really expecting to spot Chance but wishing he could know for sure that his brother was out there somewhere, keeping an eye on him. As twins, there had always been some sort of mysterious connection between them that went beyond their occasional habit of finishing each other’s sentences. Usually, Ace could sense it whenever Chance was around, and vice versa. Ace felt a faint stirring of that, but it wasn’t as strong as it usually was.

  He was confident that Chance was alive, though. He would know it if anything ever happened to his brother. He was sure of that.

  * * *

  As Chance lowered the field glasses he’d fetched from his saddlebag, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Ace looked like he was all right as he rode out of Rimfire with three hardcases. In fact, he looked better than he had the last time Chance had seen him. He was wearing a hat again and had a gun bel
t strapped around his waist with the holstered Colt attached to it. A rifle butt stuck up from a sheath strapped to the chestnut’s saddle, too. Ace was well-armed again.

  The smile disappeared. All Chance had was the old Remington.

  He shrugged off the frown. That didn’t matter. He would put it to good use when and if he had to.

  It didn’t take him long to throw his saddle on the cream-colored gelding and set off after his brother and the other men, hanging back enough so the others wouldn’t be able to spot him easily. It appeared that they were headed in the direction of Angus McPhee’s ranch.

  Were they on their way to a showdown of some sort? Chance found himself hoping that was the case.

  * * *

  Ace suggested that they cross the creek and angle toward the northern side of the valley. “We’ll be a lot less likely to run into McPhee that way, since his ranch headquarters lies south of the creek.”

  Clancy looked narrow-eyed at him. “This isn’t some trick you’d be pullin’, is it, mate?”

  Ace didn’t bother trying to hide the exasperation he felt as he said, “Haven’t you realized by now that we’re after the same thing, Clancy? All this constant suspicion is getting old.”

  “Can’t be too careful, that’s all. Anyway, it’s your own interests I’m lookin’ out for, boy. If you double-cross us, I’ll turn you over to Whistler here, and you wouldn’t like that. You know why they call him Whistler?”

  Ace glanced at the lean, shaggy-haired man. “I don’t have any idea.”

  “Because he likes to whistle a little tune while he’s workin’, and the work he does best is with a knife. I’ve seen him practically skin a man alive . . . and keep him alive while he was doin’ it. No, sir, the Apaches don’t have a thing on our pal Whistler here.”

  Ace kept his face impassive. If Clancy’s lurid comments were true—and Ace had no reason to believe they weren’t—that pretty much eliminated any doubts he might have had that Belmont and his men were criminals.

  And he had willingly thrown in his lot with them, he reminded himself... but only because that represented the best chance he and his brother had of recovering the money stolen from them.