The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “I’m borrowing a horse and saddle offa Doss,” Ed said. “And we ain’t gonna be gone very long.”

  “How do you know?” Elvira asked. “I never heard of panning a lot of gold in a short amount of time.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Ed said, not appreciating her nosiness. “Remember what Ben said. It won’t take us much time to work that claim of his dry. And I’m taking a little cash money with me if I got to buy something.”

  Elvira went to the stove and poured him a cup of coffee. “You ain’t gonna be able to buy much with a coupla measly dollars.”

  “We just need enough for any grub or other extrys that might crop up.”

  “I don’t understand this whole deal a bit,” Elvira said. “It ain’t like Ben to share nothing with nobody. Now all of a sudden he’s got this gold claim and invites ever’body and his brother to go over there and dig up what they can.”

  “It ain’t that simple, Elviry,” Ed said after a sip of coffee. “The gold in that claim is liable to be washed away when the fall rains come. Ben cain’t get it all hisself so he figgered that rather’n let it wash on down to New Mexico, he’d let us other fellers pick up what we can. He’s getting an extry share as a bonus for letting us in on it. It’s good business and it’ll save our land from that son of a bitch Banker Treadwell.”

  Elvira ignored the profanity as she sat down at the table. She was thoughtful for several long moments. “Ed, let’s forget the whole thing. We can start over somewheres else. Maybe down south in the Injun Territory.”

  “What?” Ben asked, amazed. “We cain’t just walk away from all this, Elviry! There’s too much of us in this place.”

  “There’s something wrong,” Elvira insisted. “I don’t know what it is, but deep in my bones I feel we’re heading for trouble far worse than losing our land.”

  “What could be worse than that?”

  Orvie looked up, saying, “Yeah? What could be worse than that?”

  Elvira glared at the boy. “You go outside and see that ever’thing’s all right in the barn.”

  “I already done that,” Orvie said.

  “Then do it again!” his mother snapped. She waited until Orvie left the house, then turned back to Ed. “Lots of things is worse than losing this land. We got our lives and our health and with the Lord’s help maybe things ain’t gonna be so bad for us after all.”

  “Elviry, I fought the weather and grasshoppers while I was making a go of this place. And the other fellers feel the same. We ain’t giving nothing up to that damn banker.”

  “It ain’t just the banker that riles me,” Elvira said. “Anything to do with Ben is trouble. Always has been and always will be. He’s gonna be the death of us all. And our friends too.”

  “Hush, woman!” Ed growled. “I’ll hear no more of this foolishness. Now get me another cup of coffee before we go to bed.”

  “How’re you gonna sleep if’n you keep drinking coffee?” Elvira asked. But she still went to the stove and got him another cup.

  “Lord! I’m so excited about going on this trip I cain’t sleep anyhow.”

  “There’s another thing,” Elvira said after returning to the table. “Orvie is gonna give us problems some day, Ed. He’s got too much of whatever it is that ails Ben.”

  “There ain’t nothing wrong with Orvie or Ben, Elviry. You don’t like my brother ’cause he’s had some run-ins with the law and ain’t settled down yet. Why he’s even talking about getting his own place up north of Dodge City when we get back. What do you think of that? Ol’ Ben having a farm and marrying up with one of the local gals.”

  “Sweet Lord in heaven!” Elvira exclaimed. “How I’d pray for that poor girl; whoever she turns out to be. She’ll spend more time at her folks crying her eyes out then she will on her own place. I’ll warrant that. And he’ll prob’ly be having her birth a young’un ever’ year ’til she’s wore out at thirty.”

  Orvie came back into the house with an indignant expression on his face. “The barn is still all right.”

  “Go get ready for bed,” Elvira said. “Call me when you’re ready to say your prayers.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Orvie said. His bed was next to the kitchen counter near the stove. His parents had him sleep where it would be warmer in the winter. After losing three children, they were not going to take any chances with the fourth who had managed to survive.

  Ed finished his coffee. “We’d best get to bed too, Elviry. Even if I cain’t sleep, I can rest up for the long trip ahead.”

  “Hmmf!” she said. “Ben’ll wake us up when he comes back drunk from town later tonight.”

  “No he won’t,” Ed said. “He’s gonna sleep out in the barn.”

  He went to the outhouse to relieve himself while Elvira turned her attention to getting Orvie settled down. By the time Ed returned, Orvie was in bed and Elvira had slipped under the covers in the corner of the house where they slept. Ed carried the kerosene lantern over to where his wife waited for him. He blew out the light and stripped down to his longjohns, then joined her. The couple lay without speaking for awhile, each lost in thought as they stared through the darkness at the ceiling.

  “You was always a good husband, Ed.”

  He turned his head toward her. “You think so, Elviry?”

  She had a sudden urge to cry, but fought against it until she could control her emotions. “I…I love you dearly.”

  Ed’s eyes opened wider. “I’m obliged.”

  “We ain’t never been apart, have we? I mean not since we was hitched.”

  “I reckon not,” Ed said. “I was too young to go to the war.”

  “We wasn’t married then anyhow.”

  Ed grinned. “You was sure a pretty li’l ol’ thing in them days.”

  “I wish I could have stayed so.”

  “You ain’t too bad looking yet,” Ed allowed.

  “I’m wore down. And kinda tired too.”

  “That’s why we cain’t start up again. This is our home. We’ve worked hard for this and we ain’t gonna lose it. Even our grandkids is gonna work this land.”

  “I wonder if they’ll know how much we put into it,” Elvira mused.

  “Hell! They won’t even care. By the time any of Orvie’s kids has come into the world, this ought to be real nice house. It’ll have rooms in it and we can add some more on the back too.”

  “Sweet Lord what luxury!” Elvira said. She thought about that for a few minutes, then turned on her side and drifted off to sleep.

  ~*~

  All the families were gathered at the McKenna farm in the morning. The children, excited at the unconventional gathering, ran around the farmyard in a loosely organized game of tag. The exceptions were Clem Turnbull, 17; Stephen Kearns, 16; and Eldon Dawkins, 15. The trio did men’s work on their farms, and were too serious to be scampering around like little kids. They were also upset about not being able to go with their fathers to the gold claim.

  Elvira had cooked up some scrambled eggs while the other women came with baskets of bread, jam and sausage for the communal breakfast.

  The men gathered in the barn to make final preparations and plans. Ben had just readied his horse when he turned to the others. “Listen up, fellers, I know that Doss generally ramrods things, but this time I’m in charge.”

  “We all know that, Ben,” Doss said. “You worked this whole thing out and we’re behind you a hunnerd percent.”

  “That’s fine,” Ben said. “It makes good sense to get these things settled right from the get-go.”

  “The Lord will help us,” Buford Turnbull said. “But we must make a strong effort on our own.”

  “I thought we’d run over this thing once more before we go to breakfast,” Ben said. “Now we ride outta Kansas and into Colorado altogether. We’ll skirt Caldera and make camp between that town and the Brethren’s mine. A couple of us will go to the digs and check to make sure ever’thing’s still going on as usual.”

  Doss interjected
, “The others’ll lay low in camp and try to keep from attracting any attention.”

  “Right,” Ben said, irritated by Doss giving an order. “Don’t even go fishing. Stay hid and don’t let nobody know you’re around. We’ll get back to y’all as quick as we can. Then we’ll pull the job.”

  “It’s pretty simple really,” J.R. Dawkins said.

  “Sure it is,” Ben concurred. “After we hit the mine, we haul ass for Amarillo and cash in that gold. Then head for Kansas and home.”

  “And we pay off Banker Treadwell and tell him to go to hell,” Doss said. “After that we’ll start dealing with the Union Bank in Dodge City again.”

  “Let’s tar and feather Treadwell and run him outta the state,” Ed McKenna said.

  “We might take that under serious consideration,” Doss replied.

  Preacher Buford Turnbull disagreed. “Let’s practice Christian charity and forgive him. Remember he is but an instrument of God in this holy mission. We shouldn’t risk God’s wrath by sinning further. Any punishment due Treadwell will be in the Lord’s hands.”

  “You could be right, Buford,” Zachary Steuben agreed. “Let’s take what we need and not push our luck.”

  “Amen!” Buford replied.

  Doss sniffed the air. “It smells like the womenfolk have cooked up some right tasty vittles for us to start out on.”

  “Let’s get to the house and fill up,” Ed suggested.

  “Good idee,” J.R. said. “We ain’t gonna eat good again ’til we get back.”

  The meal was a solemn affair for the grown-ups while the kids continued on in high spirits. The older boys were given last minute instructions by their fathers regarding the farm work to be done in their absence. Stephen Kearns and Clem Turnbull received extra duties in helping out Elvira McKenna and Edna Lee Steuben. There were no able-bodied adult males in their homes.

  When it came time for goodbyes, all the boys envied their fathers’ good luck at going gold prospecting, and made enthusiastic farewells of encouragement. But the girls, along with the women fell apart. Even the ones who had been scampering and playing fell into moods of sadness. These were not families who normally separated from each other, and by the time the men rode out of the farmyard and disappeared over the far prairie horizon, all the females were reduced to tears.

  ~*~

  It is difficult for a group of people to keep secrets. When there is a weak link in the chain of subterfuge like J.R. Dawkins, it is impossible.

  J.R. wasn’t the best farmer on the Flats. His crops were always less in the yield while his livestock seemed a little more worse for wear each passing year. He realized this and would have been content to live with the situation except for his nagging wife Mary Beth. She did not let him forget for one day that he didn’t measure up to what she expected in a husband. Whenever he had a chance to shut her up or impress her with some astounding bit of news or information about himself, he never failed to let the cat out of the bag. Robbing a gold mine seemed made to order for this retaliation.

  The final night Mary Beth had spent most of the evening warning and nagging J.R. to make sure he got his full share of the gold. She punctuated her tirade with barbs about the debts being mostly because of his bad judgment anyway.

  J.R. snapped, “It wasn’t my fault them grasshoppers showed up, was it?”

  “They just complicated all the mistakes you already made.”

  At that point J.R. could stand it no more. “You think you’re just about the smartest damn person in the world, don’t you?”

  “I’ll own up to being above you when it comes to brains,” Mary Beth retorted.

  “You figger I cain’t do nothing right, is that it?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Well, let me tell you a thing or two,” J.R. said. “I’m risking my neck to get that damn gold so’s we can keep this farm, woman. That story about Ben McKenna letting us in on a strike is pure hogwash. We’re out to steal that gold, you hear? Steal it!”

  “You’re a liar, J.R. Dawkins!”

  “No, I ain’t. There’s a bunch of crazy religious people in Colorado that have this here gold mine that Ben knows about. We’re going over there and use our guns to take that gold away from ’em. That’s how I’m gonna save this farm.”

  “I don’t believe you even one little bit!”

  J.R. took his rifle and began wiping it clean. “You don’t have to believe nothing, woman. But me and ol’ Betsy here is gonna ride in there like Jesse James and come home rich. Now what do you think of that?”

  “You better not, J.R.,” Mary Beth, who was now thoroughly alarmed, warned him. “Them crazy people is gonna shoot you.”

  “No they ain’t,” J.R. replied contemptuously, pointing a finger at her. “And don’t you tell none of them other women, hear?” With that he stood up and went straight to bed smirking. He felt that she at last looked up to him as her hero.

  Chapter Five

  Ben McKenna, as travel stained and sweaty as his companions, but more used to long rides on horseback, grinned at the inexperienced homesteaders. He brought his mount to a stop in the clearing of a mountain forest. It was cool among the aspens and blue spruces that provided shade from the strong sun overhead. It seemed very low in the sky to the prairie farmers from Kansas.

  “Boys,” Ben announced, “We’ll settle down here ’til the job’s done.” He swung out of the saddle. “Hell, relax, y’all ain’t glued to them horses are you? Get down for a rest.”

  “The trip wasn’t so bad,” Zachary Steuben lied as he eased his aching body away from leather and horseflesh.

  Doss Kearns opined, “It was a hell of a lot easier without a bunch of women and kids along. I ain’t never gonna forget that trip from Ohio to the Flats.”

  Ed McKenna stretched his aching muscles. “I wished we coulda gone on into Caldera for a snort or two to wash away the trail dust from our throats.”

  “That’s the last thing we shoulda done,” Ben said to his brother. “All of us together would attract too much attention. I’m gonna have to go into Caldera on business, but I been there before. Nobody’s gonna give me as much as a second glance.”

  “You’re right,” Doss said. You never know when somebody might recollect seeing us and end up linking us to the …well…”

  “The robbery,” Buford Turnbull said. “The word is harsh, but, praise God, it’s in a good cause.”

  “A holy cause,” J.R. added.

  “Amen!” Buford agreed. “Now! When do we get on with our task?”

  “The first thing to do is scout that mine,” Ben said. “I figger on taking Doss and Ed with me. We’re gonna have to know for sure if the job’s still possible.”

  “You mean we come all this way and there’ a chance we cain’t pull off this thing?” Zachary asked.

  “O’course there’s a chance we cain’t,” Ben replied angrily. “The situation could change overnight for one reason or the other. Something like this can get complicated. We’re here to pull a job. And there’s a hell of a lot of risk involved; even on an easy one like this.”

  “You’re calling the shots, Ben,” Doss assured him. “And the sooner we do it, the sooner we’re back home.”

  Ben nodded his accord. “If we’re as careful as we should be, we’ll be here for only a short time. Let’s settle in and rest up. The horses ain’t quite played out yet, but I’d sure as hell hate to have to make ’em suddenly go on a long, fast ride. And them critters ain’t exactly built for speed anyhow.”

  “More for plowing,” Zachary commented.

  “Exactly,” Ben stated. “Anyhow, while we’re regaining our strength we’ll get on with the scouting.”

  “When’re we going over there?” Ed asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Ben answered. “And we ain’t going over there, we’re going up there.” He pointed to the hills above them. “That’s where our gold is, boys.”

  The men turned to unsaddling the horses and picketing them among the trees. When
that was accomplished, they gave their attention to themselves and in short order a crude but reasonably comfortable camp had been set up. Sleeping areas were carefully picked and cleared away. The place for the cookfire, which would also serve as the social center of the bivouac, evolved as a central location among the bedrolls. With all that done, the farmers settled in for an afternoon of napping and talking.

  But Ben McKenna had other ideas. “Just what in hell do you fellers think you’re doing?”

  J.R. Dawkins shrugged. “Relaxing, Ben, like you said.”

  “Relaxing just means we ain’t riding,” Ben said. “But that don’t mean you go to sleep or sit around like it’s a Sunday afternoon after church.”

  “Lord, Ben,” Ed said, close to laughing. “D’you want us to polish our saddles or something?”

  Zachary chuckled. “Or shine up the skillets?”

  “We’re gonna have guards,” Ed said. “And I mean ever’ hour of the day, understand? We don’t want nobody bumping into us. The six of us will each take two hours on and four off. But when me and Doss and Ed go on the scout tomorrow you can divvy it up any way that pleases you. And, if you ain’t on guard, you can make sure your gear is ready for a quick getaway. Keep your guns cleaned and loaded. Once all that’s accomplished, then you take them siestas. Understood?”

  “He’s right, boys,” Doss said. “I’ll take the first turn at guard. The best place oughta be up the hill a ways; maybe by that lone fir.”

  “That’ll do,” Ben said. He turned to the others. “Now y’all gather your gear together. If there’s something you don’t need, then leave it packed. This is serious business, boys.” He paused, adding, “Y’all are on the owlhoot trail now just like a gang of outlaws.”

  The sodbusters turned to their tasks and the little camp lost some of its easy-going style as various pieces of gear were either gathered up within convenient reach or packed away altogether.

  By evening the group had settled into their new routine. The coming and going every two hours of the guards gave them a comfortable feeling of the systematic order that they were used to in their lives; like doing chores. The quick mountain nightfall was both unexpected and disliked by the plainsmen. The towering mountains around them gave a short exposure to sunshine, but the farmer’s weariness helped them to ignore the unappreciated phenomenon as they settled in for the night.