Last Train to Bannock [Clayburn 02]

by Marvin H. Albert

  Clayburn rode out to meet him, flanked by Roud and Haycox. He was sure that whatever Adler's eventual plans, he wouldn't start anything here and now. Their meeting place was halfway between the rifles of the two enemy groups. Whoever started anything, all the men in the middle could count on being hit.

  Wilks grinned at Clayburn as the two three-man groups met. "Nice seeing you again, gambler. How're the cards treating you?"

  Clayburn looked at him wooden-faced. "I'm not playing much-till I get my money back from you."

  "Figure to?" Wilks asked insolently.

  "Sure."

  "Now?"

  Clayburn shook his head slightly. "No."

  "Why not?"

  "You're carrying a truce flag. And it'll wait."

  Wilks laughed. "It'll wait, all right. Till hell freezes."

  "Not that long," Clayburn said, smiling thinly. "I'll have my money from you-if you're still alive when I come for you."

  Wilks stiffened in the saddle, losing his grin. "Any time, gambler. Any time."

  "Shut up," Adler growled at him. "We're not here to talk up more trouble between us."

  "What are you here for?" Clayburn asked quietly.

  "I need more men," Adler told him. "I've come to hire some."

  Clayburn smiled with his mouth.

  "It strikes you funny?" Adler said. "It shouldn't. I need more men and I'm willing to pay well to get them."

  Clayburn looked at Dillon's thin, surly face, then beyond to where Adler's ten riflemen sat their horses. His green eyes returned to Adler. "Seems to me you've already got enough to get your wagons to Bannock for you."

  Adler made an impatient gesture. "You know exactly what I'm after. And I want you, especially. I'll pay you exactly three times whatever you're getting now, to switch sides."

  Clayburn said, "No."

  "You make up your mind without thinking."

  "I don't have to think about it," Clayburn told him in a bored voice. "I chose sides back in Parrish. You made it a permanent choice when you had your men jump me in that alley."

  "You'd hold a little thing like that against me when m…"

  "I hold it against you," Clayburn said emphatically.

  Adler's cold eyes stared at him, saw that nothing would change his mind. Adler looked at Roud and Haycox. "My offer also includes you two. Triple pay."

  Roud shook his head. "Clayburn answered you for me."

  Haycox said, "It's a real attractive offer. Unfortunately, Miss Sorel happens to be a friend of mine."

  "Friendship doesn't cost anything," Adler countered. "Sure she'll still be a friend after you've finished doing what she needs you to do?"

  "Be a little more careful how you talk," Haycox warned icily. "I don't like your tone of voice."

  "You've got your answer," Clayburn told Adler. "You want us to turn on our own men, and we've turned you down."

  Adler didn't budge. "If that's what's worrying you, any of the rest of your men who want to come over to me are more than welcome."

  "At triple wages?"

  Adler's smile had nothing of humor behind it. "Double wages. Teamsters are not quite as valuable to me as men like you three."

  Clayburn's smile was equally lacking in warmth. "You must be worried, to be ready to put out all that money."

  "I'm gambling on more than making up for it in Bannock."

  "Sure you would. If your wagons were the only ones to get there." Clayburn's smile widened. "But they won't be. You aren't even going to get there first. Because the answer to your offer is still no."

  Adler looked past Clayburn toward the wagons. "Your teamsters haven't heard my offer yet. They may feel differently about it."

  Clayburn was afraid of that. Jim Roud just wasn't the kind of man who switched sides in the middle of a fight, and Haycox had his reasons for being loyal to Cora. But the rest of the men were another matter. They were good enough men, but money was money. Double pay was bound to weigh heavier than loyalty with some of them. And he couldn't spare any of them. Which was Adler's idea: without teamsters Cora couldn't move her wagons any farther.

  "I'm answering for them," he told Adler flatly. "No."

  Adler's lips thinned. "I'll take the answer from them."

  Clayburn shook his head. "You're not going near them. And if you try shouting your offer, I'll put a bullet in your stomach before you get the second word out."

  Dillon's hand moved closer to his holster. "That'd buy you a hole in your own gut."

  "Maybe. But your boss would be beyond getting any pleasure out of that. Besides"-he inclined his head at Haycox-"I've got a fellow here that'd shoot your eyes out before you cleared leather."

  Wilks said quietly, "I don't think so."

  Haycox looked at Wilks. "You can find out, easy enough."

  "Maybe you didn't notice," Dillon put in nastily, "those men we got behind us. And you're in real easy rifle distance if…"

  "Shut up," Adler told him tonelessly. "We're all too exposed out here."

  "That's a fact," Clayburn agreed amiably. "And none of us feel like bucking those odds against living. Do we?"

  "You're the one," Adler pointed out, "that said you'd start shooting if I tried to contact your men."

  Clayburn nodded. "That's what I said."

  "Go ahead," Wilks urged his boss. "He doesn't mean it. He wouldn't have the nerve to risk it."

  But Adler was studying Clayburn's face and deciding that he did mean it.

  "Good-by," Clayburn said politely. "Time for you to turn around and go back. Been nice discussing things with you."

  Adler stared at him a moment longer, then turned his mount and started away slowly. Dillon and Wilks backed their horses off a few paces, then wheeled to join Adler.

  When they were out of earshot Wilks looked at Adler. "Do we hit them?"

  Adler was staring straight ahead of him, his face brooding. "No. We don't have enough men for an open attack."

  "It'll be night soon. We can sneak in and…"

  "They're too ready for it. As you learned the last time you tried it."

  Wilks' jaw clenched irritably. "Then we've wasted a hell of a lot of time riding up here and back. "We'll be two days behind 'em after this."

  "Not for too long," Adler said heavily. "And this hasn't been a waste of time. I'm this much nearer to Bannock."

  He looked at Wilks. "I'll keep riding south with you till it gets dark, in case one of them is trailing us. Then I'll leave you. You're in charge of keeping the wagons moving till I get back. I'll take Dillon's horse with me, too. He can ride double with you back to the wagons."

  Wilks frowned. "Where're you going?"

  "Bannock. Using both horses I can be there in three days. At the rate the wagons move, that'll still leave me plenty of time."

  "For what?"

  "They'll be watching for us to hit them from the south. If they send a scout back to look, he'll see all of you are sticking with my wagons. And they'll figure their worries are over. They won't be expecting me to hit them from the north… That's why I'm going to Bannock. I'm going to buy me some more men. And bring them back down with me."

  Wilks scratched the side of his jaw. "You'll have to buy an awful lot of them."

  "No," Adler said softly. "Not too many. Not for what I've got in mind."

  ***

  "Adler made an offer," Clayburn told Cora when they returned to the wagons. He was aware of the other men there watching, and listening. But he looked only at Cora. "He said he was still willing to buy your freight, with the wagons and mules. Parrish prices."

  Cora showed her surprise. "That's what he wanted?"

  "Uh-huh. I told him you wouldn't be interested. But if I was wrong you can still…"

  "You weren't wrong. He must be crazy to think I'd throw away my cards now that I've got a winner's hand."

  "Not crazy. Just anxious."

  "What will he do now?"

  "I'm not sure. If he wants to try another attack, tonight's his best time fo
r it. He can't keep riding his men back and forth between his wagons and ours. Every time he does, his freight'll get left farther behind."

  "Then if he doesn't come tonight we're free of him?"

  Clayburn shook his head. "I didn't say that. There's a number of other things he could do, and no knowing which he will do. We'll have to be on our guard all the way-against Adler, against Apaches. And deal with trouble as it comes."

  Clayburn chose their campsite for that night with special care. After the evening meal he had the cook fires doused and gave orders that no more were to be lit till dawn. He assigned a full half of his men to guard duty among the rocks surrounding the wagon camp; at midnight they'd be relieved by the other half of the men. It meant that everyone would have to do with only half a night's sleep. But for the next few nights they would have to pay that price for security.

  With the coming of darkness Clayburn saddled his sorrel and rode away-to circle the area until Blue relieved him at midnight.

  When he was gone, Cora carried her bedroll away from where the men were bedding down, as she'd done every night on Clayburn's orders. Out of sight of the men she found a hummock that suited her. She was spreading the ground blanket when the figure of a man materialized in front of her.

  She straightened quickly, her hand whipping to the Colt on her hip. Then she saw it was Haycox.

  "Oh," she murmured, relaxing, "it's you. You'd better go get your sleep. You'll be…"

  "I don't need much sleep," Haycox said, speaking just quietly enough so his voice would not carry to the men. "Never did."

  "Well, I do. So if you don't mind…"

  "I thought you'd like to know what Adler was after."

  "Clay said…"

  "He lied." Haycox came closer to her. "Adler offered us three times what you're paying to go over to his side."

  "Why didn't Clay say so?"

  "I'd guess he didn't want your teamsters to hear about it. Adler was willing to pay twice as much as you to any of them that'd switch sides."

  Cora was silent for a moment. "Clay was right not to say so. Double pay's a lot of money."

  "Triple is even more."

  She tried to make out his expression through the shadows. "Tempted?"

  "Not by Adler," Haycox told her in a gently mocking voice. "You know what I'm tempted by." He reached out and touched her with his open hand. "You feel like you look-soft but…"

  She jerked away from his hand. "Don't!" she whispered fiercely.

  "Why not?" His voice was quiet and probing. "Nobody can see us here. Back in Parrish you let me believe you feel about me like I do about you."

  "And I've told you since-wait till we get to Bannock."

  Haycox shook his head once. "Bannock's too long to wait to find out."

  His hands seized her shoulders, dragging her to him. She struggled silently, twisting her face away. His fingers sank deeper into her shoulders, hurting. She went stiff and still. His mouth bruised viciously against hers, forcing her lips open. One of his hands moved down the small of her back, fingers cupping greedily.

  Something small and hard and round pressed against his flat stomach.

  He let her go abruptly, stepped back. Cora's gun was in her hand.

  "So that's how it is," Haycox said in a flat, empty voice.

  "I won't be manhandled," Cora whispered shakily. "I had more than I can take of that once. And I'll never let it happen again. Nobody touches me unless I let him know I want to be touched."

  "And you don't want. Not by me. That's what I had to find out. You've been stringing me along. Adler was right."

  "Adler? What did he say…"

  But Haycox turned away without another word and vanished in the dark.

  It took Cora a long time to fall asleep that night. When she woke at dawn she half expected to find Haycox gone.

  But he was still there. And when he looked at her his face was expressionless. She could read nothing of what he was thinking.

  Ranse Blue rode in when the mules were being hitched to the wagons and told Clayburn he'd followed the trail of Adler and his men for a way.

  "They're gone-back south to Adler's wagons. All except one that took off with a spare horse, circled past us to the east over there. I reckon Adler detailed him to keep an eye on us, like before."

  Clayburn's nod had no special meaning to it. He didn't say anything.

  Blue fingered his whiskers thoughtfully. "I'd say Adler was callin' it quits-if it wasn't for him sending a man to keep track of us again."

  "Adler hasn't quit," Clayburn said. He looked at the snow in the mountains ahead, and the big dark clouds that had formed over them during the night. "It'll take us ten more days to get to Bannock. More if those snow clouds really let go. That's a lot of time for something to happen in."

  THIRTEEN

  The winter snow began to fall their second day into the mountains. There were only small flurries at first, coming before noon while the mules were struggling to haul the heavy freight wagons up between thickly forested slopes. The trail was made difficult by tangles of dead trees and branches that had tumbled down the slope, and the snow flurries didn't help.

  It stopped snowing after about an hour. Cora's wagon train continued slowly upward, aiming at a pass that showed only as a distant notch between two jagged peaks rising above the timberline. Late that afternoon there was another snow flurry. This one lasted less than half an hour. But Clayburn, squinting upward, knew it was only a prelude. The clouds had merged during that day into one solid overhang that completely blotted out the sky.

  That night it grew much colder, and snow fell steadily for a couple of hours. At dawn the wagons and the land around them carried a layer of white. The sky was still overcast and there was the taste and smell of more snow in the air. Which meant harder going.

  Looking over the men, Clayburn saw that the past nights of getting only half their sleep had taken their toll of them. He announced that they were going back to alternating three-man watches that night. It was risky, but necessary. Sleepy, fagged-out men couldn't handle mule teams over rugged terrain, or be fully ready when trouble came.

  Ranse Blue returned in time for breakfast from an absence of a day and a night, with news that Adler's wagon train was in the mountains too.

  "They're following another trail," he told Clayburn while he ate. "Over that way." He nodded eastward. "Good as this one; and shorter."

  Clayburn nodded, looking to the east, "I know. I scouted it. There're some long, narrow ledges they'll have to go over farther on that'll get blocked up if it snows steady for a couple days. Not worth the risk."

  Blue swallowed a mouthful of coffee, blinked as the heat of it brought tears to his eyes. "They're comin' along at a good pace so far. But it'll be another day and a half before they get as far north as we are right now."

  Clayburn turned to him. "See any Apache sign?"

  "Uh-huh. But old sign. How about you?"

  "Same thing. Indian pony tracks, made about a week ago."

  Blue glanced reflectively at the surrounding peaks and ridges. "Means they ain't close. Also means they're around us somewhere."

  "I'd give something to know exactly where… By the way, what took you so long? You should have been back last night."

  "I decided to do my sleepin' on the trail," Blue told him nastily. "You usually got more work for me soon's I show up."

  "That's so," Clayburn admitted, and stood up dusting snow from his trousers. "Right now you can finish filling your belly and get to work riding flank over on the left."

  He assigned Roud to the right flank, Haycox to ride drag, and rode on ahead as the wagons got moving.

  The wagon train entered the pass after the midday meal. Clayburn was scouting well in advance when it began to snow again. At the same time he spotted the tracks of an unshod pony crossing his path.

  They led to the east, and unlike others he'd spotted these were fresh tracks, their imprints sharp in the frosted snow and beginning to f
ill up with the new snow. Clayburn's head turned quickly, his narrow eyes following them to where they vanished behind the curtain of falling snow-flakes. His strong cheekbones and the line of his jaw became more prominent. He drew the carbine from its scabbard, reined his sorrel to the right, and followed the tracks.

  He rode tensed, knowing that his prey might also be hunting him. Visibility was cut by the big soft flakes coming down steadily in the windless air, increasing the danger of being ambushed. It forced him to move slowly, though the tracks were filling up fast.

  He had followed them for half an hour, as they cut around to the south, when they finally disappeared, blanketed under the fresh snow. Clayburn pulled up and for a few moments scanned the white world around him. Then he rode on through the maze of snow-shrouded boulders and pines, circling behind the wagon train and up the other side of it. He came across no further sign of his Indian.

  Coming in sight of the wagon train from the west, Clayburn caught up to Ranse Blue riding flank.

  "I just hit the tracks of an Indian pony," he informed Blue flatly. "Nice fresh ones this time."

  Whatever the effect of this on the old buffalo hunter, he didn't show. "You were wonderin' where they were. Now you know."

  "No," Clayburn said slowly. "I only know one of them's too close for comfort."

  Blue looked at him sourly. "Never knew an Apache to travel alone-not for long. You're a bettin' man. I'll give you odds there's more where he came from, not more'n five hours ride from here."

  Clayburn shook his head. "I don't bet against a pat hand."

  "He'll just have himself a good look at us, make sure how many guns we got before hightailin' it off to his war party with the good news. Then they'll all be pay in' us a visit."

  "Maybe. Depends how many guns they've got."

  Clayburn was looking across the moving wagons to the east. Jim Roud was supposed to be over there, riding the other flank. He wasn't there. In spite of the falling snow he should have been close enough to be seen.

  "Where's Roud?" Clayburn asked tightly.