by Abe Dancer
‘That’s all right, Donny, it’s all right. But what’ve they done with my Sammy?’
‘I – I heard ’em say whoever they worked for was gonna ask for a big ransom, ten or twenty thousand dollars. Said Linus would pay it for me, that he’d be able to raise the money easy, him being with the bank.’
Winston leaned down quickly, holding Donny’s shoulder hard so that the boy squirmed. ‘Twenty thousand! For the likes of you! I don’t believe it!’
‘It’s true!’ Donny was upset now, tears brimming in hsi eyes. ‘I – I want to go home to my ma. Those men scared me….’
‘That’s all right, Donny. I’ll drive you home. But we’ll have some food first and—’
‘The kid stays here,’ Winston cut in, smiling crookedly, holding the boy’s arm in a crushing grip. ‘I mean, he’s what you call a valuable asset, ain’t you, kid? I bet they don’t care who they pay that ransom to, long as they get you back safe and sound. Hell, I ain’t greedy! I’ll even settle for a nice big fat re-ward for keepin’ this young man safe. ‘Course it might be a few days before I let ’em know we’ve got him. By then, they’ll be glad to pay just about anythin’ I ask!’
He winked at the shocked, white-faced Mattie.
‘Now, don’t say your brother-in-law ain’t got a brain or two in his head, eh?’
‘Does your brain tell you what happens to Sam when they find out he’s not the one they thought?’ Her voice trembled and she began to shake. ‘They’ll probably kill him so he can’t identify them!’
Winston composed his face. ‘Don’t reckon they will. Anyway, this one stays put. I ain’t gonna let him outta my sight till I decide to tell that banker where I got him – an’ how much it’s gonna cost to get him back!’
CHAPTER 13
THE RANSOM
Red Carlin looked smug when they found the tracks some distance from the entrance to the snakelike canyon. They pointed towards the distant Bale farm, a long journey through the hills and the plains beyond.
‘Reckon the kid was young Sam Bale after all.’
Smoky sucked down a sharp breath; he couldn’t believe Red could be so loco as to rub Quinlan’s nose in it this way.
The big man, squatting beside the tracks left by Cole, looked up bleakly, scratching idly at his short beard.
‘Could be. Or Cole’s got some idea of hiding the Charlton kid out there. Either way, we follow. And we do it without a lot of stupid talk.’ He set his glare on Red, who swallowed and nodded, running the tip of his tongue around his thin lips.
‘Whatever you say, Quick. I wouldn’t put it past that damn sheriff to try to hide Donny Charlton.’
Quinlan straightened, hitched up the gun belt around his thick waist.
‘Kid don’t matter – to hell with him, whoever he is. I want Cole – we’ve got some squarin’ away to do. But better’n that, he still has the ransom money. That’s what counts now.’
Both Red and Smoky Hill nodded gently; for a while there they had forgotten that the whole point of this was to collect the money, had been too busy trying to decide the identity of the kid.
Now, like Quinlan said, that didn’t matter: it was the cash that counted.
The cash and Cole, Red corrected himself.
He sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in that sheriff’s shoes when Quinlan should finally catch up with him.
Sam Bale was riding up behind Cole on the big black. It was so wide in the body that his short legs were stretched out and he squirmed around a lot in discomfort.
‘Stay still,’ Cole said shortly.
‘I feel like I’m doin’ the splits. My belly an’ legs’re nearly in a straight line, this blamed jackass is so darn wide!’
Cole reined up and Sam slid off gratefully, rubbing his groins and hips, stamping his feet.
‘That feels good. Think I might run alongside for a spell.’
‘With your legs we’ll be going backwards. C’mon, sit in front of me. I’ll slide back a bit in the saddle.’
It was better but Sam held the saddle horn, pushing against it constantly to keep it from pressing into his belly. ‘I’m gonna be dead before we get home!’
‘You keep up that bitchin’ and you might be. You been playing too long with Donny Charlton. Linus reckons he’s always complaining about something.’
‘Yeah, well maybe he has cause to, way Linus treats him.’
‘The considered opinion of an eight-year-old, eh? They just don’t get along, is all. Like you and me won’t, you keep bellyaching. You think riding like this is worse than being in that cave?’
Sam went quiet. They covered another mile before he said in a quieter tone, ‘I was scared they was gonna kill me.’
‘Understandable. They seemed mean types.’
‘They was scared of someone called Quinlan. Boy, he sure had that Rooster and Blackie buffaloed. Kept checkin’ my ropes, one or t’other, sayin’ to make blamed sure I couldn’t get away or Quinlan’d kill ’em both.’
‘Guess he wanted it to go off just right, seeing as the kidnapping was his idea in the first place.’
Sam twisted a little and craned his neck to look up into Cole’s dusty face.
‘What gave you that notion?’
Cole tensed, frowning. After a few moments he said, ‘Well, maybe he had some help from Brack Devlin. You know who he is?’
‘I’ve heard of him. But no one mentioned his name while they had me.’
‘Then why d’you doubt it was Quinlan’s idea?’
‘Just somethin’ they said.’
‘Which was?’
‘Hey! Lookit! There’s the farm!’ Sam started squirming, throwing his short legs over the saddle horn and dropping off the black. ‘Never thought I’d be so glad to see it!’
‘Come back here! It’s a couple of miles yet over those hills … Sam! Ah, dammit!’
He set the black after the boy who ploughed into thick brush, dodging about so the black couldn’t follow without Cole having to keep a tight rein, trying to find a clear passage. The boy being so small, he could crawl under the bushes and it was hard to see just where he was.
The little tyke had decided to have some fun, damnit!
Cole was still fighting the black – the horse not happy at being constantly scratched up by the stiff, prodding brush – when the laughing kid burst out way ahead and scooted up the slope like a young, gangling deer.
Swearing at being outwitted by an eight-year-old, Cole forgot the livery man’s admonition about spurs.
He touched them to the black’s flanks, aiming on driving it through the dense brush in as straight a line as possible.
Bam! The world seemed to explode around him. The black whickered and half-reared, then snorted, swung its head and bit his lower leg. Even with the leather of the half-boot between his flesh and those big teeth, it hurt like the devil. Cole yelled, automatically leaned down to rub his lower leg.
The black plunged away and the brush raked across Cole’s shoulders, swept him from the saddle. Spiky brush tore at his clothes, ripped a line of red across one cheek, caught under his six-gun butt, flicking it from the holster.
Cole dived after it and by the time he recovered the Colt and stood up, angrily freeing his loose shirt from snagging brush, the horse was through and running free, mane and tail flying.
Above, on top of the hill, he heard the full-blooded chortling amusement of the boy, who waved cheekily.
‘Hope you catch him – eventually!’
Then he turned and disappeared over the crest of the hill, just an echo of his tinkling laughter reaching the angry sheriff.
Mattie Bale felt the hard ground against her knees as she worked in the vegetable garden, some twenty yards away from the cabin. She grabbed a handful of her old skirt, bunching the cloth so it made a pad beneath her sore knees.
At the same time she lifted her head. Her face was shaded by her straw hat as she looked towards the entrance to the root cellar just past the south end of the garde
n.
She thought she heard Donny Charlton again. Her heart started to beat faster, and she flicked her gaze towards the house, but there was no sign of Winston. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t watching from behind the curtain in the window of the bedroom.
It wasn’t right, keeping Donny here! Especially locked away in the root cellar. But Winston Bale had his mind set on claiming the ransom for himself, or at least a substantial reward in exchange for Donny.
She had thought of trying to sneak out at night to release the boy, but Winston locked the bedroom door and kept the key on a thong around his neck.
And he always had an arm thrown across her body so that she only had to stir or turn over and he was instantly awake.
Funny! That cry wasn’t coming from the root cellar – it was much clearer than Donny’s muffled calls.
She heard it again and straightened, standing up completely now, turning to look at the low hogback rise. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she glimpsed the small figure hurtling down the slope, tow hair wild, waving, the piping voice calling her name.
‘Oh, dear God! Thank you, thank you!’ She waved and hiked up her skirts, starting to run towards Sammy as his short legs pumped frantically in his excitement and pleasure at being home again.
Then she came to an abrupt halt, panting, alarmed to see a rider on a big black horse coming over the crest. He bore down on the running boy who looked wildly over his shoulder. The rider leaned down, fisted up a handful of Sammy’s jacket and lifted him bodily, depositing the boy in front of him on the horse.
She put a hand to her mouth, screaming for Winston – of all people! But the rider continued on at a more sedate pace, rode into the yard and dropped Sammy to the ground only a few yards away.
The boy ran to his mother, who picked him up and was almost choked by the thin arms clamping around her head and neck. She felt her heart melt, the sting of tears.
‘My! I haven’t had that big a welcome for years!’
‘Get down from that hoss, mister! And careful!’
Winston came around a corner of the cabin, holding a rifle, covering Cole, paying no attention to Sammy or the woman. The sheriff dismounted slowly, watching Winston closely.
‘Who the hell’s this?’ Bale demanded.
‘That’s Sheriff Cole from Barberry,’ Mattie told her brother-in-law. ‘We’ve never met, but I know him by sight.’
Cole touched a hand to his hatbrim. ‘Pleased to meet you, ma’am. You don’t need that rifle, mister.’
‘I’ll decide that.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Winston! He’s a lawman!’
‘The sheriff rescued me from the kidnappers, Ma. Shot ’em both. Wow! Is he fast!’
Winston suddenly looked uncertain and the rifle barrel sagged. ‘You ain’t gonna harm the boy?’
Cole flicked his bleak gaze across the man and settled it on Mattie. ‘Your boy was kidnapped in mistake for Donny Charlton, ma’am….’
‘Oh, yes, I know. Donny told us….’
‘Shut up, Mattie!’
But it was too late and Cole studied Winston as the woman explained how Donny had turned up here, some days ago, terrified the kidnappers were going to come after him.
‘Where is he now?’
Mattie glanced at Winston who forced a weak smile. ‘Well, the kid’s so scared I put him in the root cellar. Convinced him he’d be safe there, no one could harm him.’
‘How long’s he been in there?’
‘We-ell—’
‘Ever since he arrived!’ Mattie said quickly, cutting in over Winston’s halting explanation; she saw how she could finally get rid of the man and his threat to her and Sam. ‘Winston has some idea he’ll hold him, and collect the ransom himself!’
‘Damn you, woman!’
Winston brought up the rifle quickly but there was a gunshot and the weapon was smashed from his hands. He jumped back, hands tingling, looking at the splintered rifle stock on the ground at his feet.
Mattie cringed, hugging Sam tightly to her, staring wide-eyed at the smoking Colt in the sheriff’s hand. He started forward and Winston, half-crouching, backed away.
‘Listen. I din’ mean no harm! It – it just seemed that if someone was willin’ to pay for the kid’s return—’
Cole hit him in the mouth, a backhanded blow from the left. Winston staggered and dropped to one knee.
‘Sam, you go let Donny out.’ Cole, keeping an eye on Winston, fumbled open one saddlebag on the sweating black and took out a set of manacles.
Winston was on his feet when Cole walked up to him and told him to hold out his hands.
‘What the hell’re you doin’? Aagh! Judas, they’re too tight! You’ve pinched my skin!’
‘You’re lucky I don’t break your jaw! What kind of snake are you, locking up a kid scared out of his wits in a dark cellar!’ Cole shoved Winston roughly. ‘Get over there and sit under that tree. You move and I’ll shoot you in the leg.’
‘Wh – what you gonna do with me?’
‘Take you back to Barberry and up before Judge Cannon. He’s got a grandson about Donny Charlton’s age. I reckon you’ll be either working on the chain gang or spending the next couple of years in the territorial pen.’
‘What? For keepin’ a kid safe in a root cellar?’
‘Sammy told me about you taking over this farm and aiming to sell it out from under Miz Bale. And I got a good memory for faces. Yours is on a dodger from Creek County, in connection with a Wells Fargo robbery. “Winn Bailey”. Know that name?’
Winston’s shoulders slumped. Mattie frowned.
‘Is that true, Sheriff? That he’s a wanted man?’
‘Yes, ma’am. I reckon he was hiding out here on your farm, it being so isolated. Saw a chance to make himself some easy money.’
Mattie walked across and slapped Winston’s face. ‘I don’t see how you can possibly be Steven’s brother! He was a fine man—’
‘Yeah, yeah – and a poor one,’ Winston said, surly now. ‘“Honest Steve” we used to call him at Wells Fargo. Needed some extra money so’s he could marry you, make an honest woman of you, and took a job as shotgun guard. Only he picked a stage that was held up and like the fool he was, died tryin’ to stop the robbers. When I ran into a little trouble myself an’ we had to scatter I recollected him talkin’ about you and this farm he was buyin’….’
Mattie, fighting back tears, looked as if she would like to spit upon him. Then Sammy came running back with a filthy-looking Donny Charlton. The boy was blinking in the sunlight.
‘Oh, you poor soul! Come on up to the house and I’ll give you a good wash. Sam’s clothes should fit you….’
She led the subdued Donny towards the cabin. Sam started after her but Cole called him back.
‘Sam. You were going to tell me something when you got all excited about seeing your farm and ran off.’
The boy blinked up at the tall sheriff. ‘I wasn’t gonna tell you anythin’.’
‘You were talking about Rooster or Blackie saying something about who set up Donny Charlton’s kidnapping.’
‘Aw, yeah.’ Sam glanced towards the cabin where his mother and Donny had now disappeared. ‘Er – maybe I got it wrong. Might be better I don’t say nothin’ an’ get someone into trouble.’
Cole leaned down, making his face stern. ‘How about you being the one to get into trouble by not telling me?’
The sheriff flicked his gaze towards the sullen Winston in manacles slumped under the tree. Sam drew down a sharp breath.
‘We-ell. They was talkin’ about the ransom and how much it was, twenty thousand. Blackie said he couldn’t imagine bein’ so rich, that someone could lose that much gamblin’. And Rooster said, well, he reckoned it was a right smart idea of the banker’s to have his own stepson kidnapped and then pay off his gamblin’ debts with a ransom put up by the kid’s mother—’
‘“The banker”? Linus Charlton?’
Sammy Bale shrugged. ‘Gues
s so. Dunno who else they could mean.’
‘No,’ Cole said slowly. ‘Me neither.’
CHAPTER 14
ALL SQUARED
AWAY
Cole knew Quinlan and his men would be coming after him and Sammy Bale.
‘Miz Bale….’
‘Mattie, please, Sheriff.’
He nodded. ‘I answer best to just “Cole”. Mattie, there are some men after me. The ones who kidnapped Sam. I reckon they’ll be here soon and I don’t want you left to face ’em. The leader’s a miserable snake, goes by the name of Quinlan, and if he finds he’s missed me here, he’s likely to get real mad, might even burn the farm.’
‘Oh, no!’ Her hand went to her throat.
‘It’s possible, so I figure you and the boys, and Winston, better come with me to Barberry.’
‘What if we meet this Quinlan along the way?’
‘There’ll be a fight. I won’t lie to you. But it’ll be best out in the open.’
Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip and then she nodeed. ‘All right. If you can hitch up the buckboard, I’ll get ready and find some decent clothes for Donny to wear. I suppose I should try to repair his jacket, too. I don’t know Mrs Charlton, but I hear she’s kind of – finicky.’
He smiled. ‘That’s one word for it.’
Winston was still manacled under the tree and he watched as Cole prepared the buckboard.
‘I can ride if you put my hands in front.’
The sheriff merely looked at him, finished harnessing the team.
‘I won’t try to escape. Give you my word.’
‘You’ll ride in the back of the buckboard,’ Cole told him flatly.
And that was how they left the farm a short time later. Cole watched the backtrail frequently. Winston was stretched out on a tarp in the back of the buckboard, the boys riding up front with Mattie Bale who handled the team expertly.
