“Ya gotta take those questions backwards to forwards. For this plan to work, the scheme has to remain secret, and the robbers can’t blackmail Vrable when he starts depositin’ the silver. Vrable and his men ain’t gonna throw down their guns—they’re gonna fight. The robbers are told to kill the Pinks, an’ the Wells Fargo agents kill the outlaws. Nobody expects the double cross. Everything neat and tidy.”
“It can’t go perfectly.”
“It can go good enough. There’s only two Wells Fargo agents other than Vrable, an’ I bet he’s confided in only one. The other won’t survive the gunfight. He can do it with one agent an’ the teamster. All that’s left is to drive the wagon to his mine an’ hide it. When he rides back into town, he’ll claim that there were more outlaws than corpses, an’ they hauled off the shipment. He’ll say they shot at them as they rode away, but there were too many.”
“McAllen?”
“Dead. Only safe way.”
“McAllen thinks Vrable wants to see him hang for the crime.”
“I know, but I don’t see it. Too complicated. Easier to put the blame on him when he’s dead.”
“What about those who return with him? Won’t they have a hold on him?”
“Probably partners in the mine scheme. My guess is that he’s worked with them before, an’ he hired them on as Wells Fargo agents. Unlike other criminals, confidence men have a strict code of honor. An’ if he’s bribed a Pinkerton, the poor bastard’ll get a surprise bullet as a final payment.”
“Bane?”
“Cash. Vrable’ll pay because he’s afraid of him, an’ he may want to use him again someday.”
“That’s a lot of shooting and a lot of dead men.”
“Three Pinks, six or seven outlaws. Yep. Lots of dead, but his story’ll hold unless they find the shipment.”
“Something bothers me. That shipment can’t be worth enough money to justify all the killing.”
“Forty, fifty thousand dollars. An’ he gets revenge on McAllen. More important, he’ll use the silver to get hundreds of thousands for that useless mine. It’s a confidence man’s dream.
“You’ve been pondering this awhile, haven’t you?”
“Just figured out how I’d do it. But I got one fear.”
“What’s that?”
“Vrable’s smarter than me.”
Chapter 47
By my pocket watch, we found the ambush spot an hour and twenty minutes outside of Leadville. There was a sharp turn in the road and good cover from either side. Sharp and I dismounted and walked the entire ground. On the uphill slope were boulders with an unobstructed view of the road, and a ravine on the downhill side provided ample cover for shooters. The shipment convoy would be in a deadly cross fire.
“Shit.”
I looked at Sharp. “Bad, huh?”
“We’ll have to split up.” He pointed to either side of the road. “One on each side.” He shook his head. “Ya gotta get high in those boulders so ya can get a good line on both sides of the road. There’s no place for me to hide on this side where I can get a clear shot.” He shook his head again. “This is perfect for an ambush.”
“I go into the boulders?”
“Steve, yer the better shot. Take the men in the boulders an’ then shoot at the ones in the ravine. Ya gotta get me enough time to come up from behind after the shootin’ starts.”
“Makes sense. Let me go up there and see if I can find a spot where I have a clear line at both hiding places.”
After a short climb, I saw boot prints behind two boulders. Somebody had already scouted out this area. I looked up and saw the rock formations extending all the way up the hill. In ten minutes, I had found my spot about twenty yards further up the hill. Close enough for an easy shot but also dangerously close if I made the slightest noise. I couldn’t find my way in the dark, so I’d have to be in position by dusk and stay quiet. I shivered in anticipation of the cold.
After I climbed back down to the road, Sharp pointed and said, “See that tree?”
“Yes.”
“It’s half chopped down. They’re gonna finish it in the mornin’ so it blocks the road. They won’t see it until they make the bend.”
“I guess that confirms we got the right spot.”
“Oh, it’s the right spot alright. Did ya see that trail that led off the road ’bout a half mile back? I’m bettin’ it leads to Vrable’s mine. Gets ’em off the road real quick.”
“I found a good spot for me. How about you?”
Sharp glanced down the ravine. “Nope. I’ll have to stay in the thickets until the shootin’ starts. Not good. They can get off a couple shots before I can get a bead on ’em.”
“That won’t work.”
“I know.”
We both stared down the ravine. There was no place to hide below where the ambushers would set up. Then we both examined the boulders. If two or three shooters sat in the ravine, all the Pinkertons could be dead before Sharp and I directed our shots at them. We might stop the holdup, but our friend would be dead or wounded.
“Can we take them before the caravan arrives?” I asked.
“In the dark? Red could, but not us. If we wait till light, they’ll already be hidden.”
“Damn.”
“Damn,” Sharp repeated.
“Let’s ride down the road and find a place to fix a meal and think about it. We’ll come back on foot before dusk.”
As we swung into our saddles, I said, “They’ll be here before dusk.”
Sharp looked at me. “What do ya mean?”
“That tree. They won’t want to finish cutting it down in the dark. I bet they’re thinking like us. Get in position tonight.”
“Damn, I believe ya might be right.”
“Can we take them this evening?”
“They’re not afraid, so they might get careless. After takin’ care of the tree, they’ll probably eat a meal. Maybe even build a fire.” Sharp reached over and slapped me on the back. “Damn, Steve, we may get the drop on the whole load of ’em.”
I looked around. “Where do you think they’ll eat?”
Sharp grinned. “Right in the middle of the road. Flat ground an’ nobody’s on this road at night. Yep, warm themselves by a fire, eat a meal, an’ then scurry to their hidin’ places at the crack of dawn.”
That sounded reasonable, but Sharp had already misjudged some aspects about this robbery. Could he be wrong again? What if they hid on either side of the road at dusk instead of gathering together for a meal? If we set up to take them on the road, we might not be able to get into position behind their ambush points.
I swung around in my saddle and looked to all sides. “How many do you think there’ll be?” I asked again.
“I said six or seven, but now I think only four. Two to a side. They only have to kill three Pinkertons, an’ this is perfect ground for an ambush. Vrable’s smart an’ cautious. He’ll want to keep the number to a minimum.”
I gave Sharp a hard look. “I don’t think we should make the same mistake you suspect they’ll make.”
Sharp nodded. “I agree. Let’s hide the horses down the road an’ get in position. Hardtack for dinner.”
We hid the horses about a mile down the road. Luckily, we found a small glade with plenty of grass about forty yards into the brush. We left the horses saddled in case we needed to leave in a hurry and picketed them with long ropes so they could graze over a wide area. As we hurried back on foot carrying our rifles, we chewed on hardtack and jerky. I didn’t mind the wilderness except for the cold, the lousy meals, and sleeping on the hard ground. At least I had a flask that we passed back and forth to wash down the dry food.
Huffing a bit, I said, “This road is narrow. What happens when two wagons meet?”
“Stagecoaches gotta give right of way to ore wagons.” Sharp laughed. “A teamster haulin’ ore has gotta recover any spilled load, but if a stage goes over an edge, the driver just buries his load.”
“You’re joshing.”
“Nope.” Between mouthfuls, Sharp added, “When we get back, let’s trace our path from the tree to our hidin’ spots. If we can get to ’em without trouble, we can set up on either side of the road by the tree.”
“What if we can’t?”
“Then we got to decide if we’re gonna try to take ’em tonight or get in position to take ’em in the mornin’.”
The terrain wasn’t that much different close to the tree because it was only a few yards away. I climbed the boulders and found a good spot to watch the area by the fallen tree. From there I tried to navigate over to the previous ambush point I had found. I had no problem in daylight. The smooth boulders made it easy to move quietly, and they were regular enough that my footing felt secure. I stood tall and examined the path between the two spots. Could I find it in the dark? I wasn’t sure, but my bet was that if I did it three or four times, I wouldn’t have a problem tonight.
When I climbed down, Sharp had already returned to the road. “I’m okay. How about you?” I asked.
Sharp rubbed his chin. “I’m better off up here. I could never get to the ravine without makin’ noise, but I couldn’t find a hidin’ place down there anyway.” He pointed. “I think I can position myself there an’ surprise ’em from the side.”
We both looked around, and then I descended into the brush and tried to move toward the ravine. Even with daylight, I couldn’t move two steps without noisily crushing dry twigs under my boots. Wherever Sharp set up on this side of the road, he would have to stay put or alert the ambushers to our presence. It seemed that there was no way to surprise them from both sides at once—unless they gathered close to the tree before dusk.
I looked up at Sharp. “Jeff, I say we set up to take them by the tree.”
Sharp looked the ground over again and then said, “Yep.”
“How will the law take it if we kill these men before they rob the shipment?”
“Been thinkin’ on that. If they fell the tree across the road, the law will stand behind the Carbonate Kings. The captain can tell ’em he had uncovered the plot an’ he recruited us into the Pinkertons. We’ll be fine.”
“What if McAllen is killed?”
“I’d still take my chances with a jury if it comes to that, but I don’t think it will—unless we lose the shipment. Besides, what choice do we have?”
“None. It’s the only way to save our friend. I’ll do it, but I don’t like shooting men in the back.”
Sharp laughed. “Then shout howdy.”
I laughed as well. I guess that’s what they call gallows humor. When I came west, I never anticipated getting into the type of gunplay that would haunt me. In the West, disputes were often settled with guns. Tycoons in New York destroyed opponents for sport, but their enemy usually limped away—albeit broken and friendless. I guess that is what people call civilization.
I pulled out my pocket watch. It was half past three.
“Yep,” Sharp said. “We better get into our positions. They could come trottin’ up that road any time.”
Without hesitation, we both extended our hands and shook. We had some long, cold hours ahead of us that would be relieved in the end by violence. Our eyes met briefly, and then we each went to our respective sides of the road.
Chapter 48
In fifteen minutes, I was shivering from the inactivity. Damn. I dreaded the confrontation, but I began to hope they’d show up soon so we could get this dirty business over with. I kept completely hidden with my back against an ice cold rock because I assumed I’d hear Vrable’s gang approach. What must the weather be like in the winter? Colder for sure, but it was hard for me to imagine. I kept my flask in my coat pocket. Bat Masterson’s warning about staying sober in a gunfight played on my mind, but mostly I wanted to conserve the whiskey for after dark.
After an hour in hiding I heard ribald male voices. I was tempted to take a peek, but I had already determined that they would be the most alert on first arrival. Better to stay down. Shortly, I heard horse hooves and realized these men were bantering so loud that I heard them from a good distance. Careless? Overconfident? I hoped both. It took all my will to stay put because I was anxious to see how many were in their band.
The men got noisier as they approached. I began to pick up snatches of their conversation, which seemed to be about the relative merits of prostitutes they had all experienced. I began to question Vrable’s cleverness. I wasn’t an expert, but it seemed to me that a good crew would have approached quietly and perhaps even sent a single man forward to scout the ambush point. They were either none too sharp, or they had absolute faith that Vrable had rigged the robbery so well that they had no worries.
Suddenly the men’s voices became clear, and I realized they had just rounded the bend in the road. One sounded to be in charge, and he ordered two of the others to fell the tree. When I heard the axe strikes, I decided to chance a peek. Only four. Sharp had been right. Would he also be right about them preparing a meal together? Would they gather or split up and get into position for the morning? Three of them were in view, and I could easily shoot all of them before they could swing a weapon around in my direction. The fourth was out of sight behind the tree, but if I was right about Sharp’s position, he should have a clear shot. Without real contemplation, I decided.
I pulled off my gloves and laid them on a boulder and then rested my rifle on the gloves.
On a whim, I shouted “Howdy!”
Then the shooting started.
Instinctively, I aimed at the most difficult shot first. The bullet hit the man chopping the tree in mid-swing, and the impact sent his axe flying. When I shifted my sights to the two men in the road, I saw that they were still astride their horses. I chose the one who had turned toward me in response to my shout. I could actually see his bewildered expression as the bullet hit him center chest. My third target had his wits about him and spurred his horse to make an escape. Too late. My shot penetrated his arm, turning his body for a second shot that I was sure killed him before he hit the ground.
In less than two seconds, the three in sight were down. Shots from the other side of the road told me that Sharp had not hesitated to take his man.
Instead of clambering down the rocky slope, I found myself rooted to my hiding place. I grew disgusted at the sight of my handiwork and collapsed onto my backside with my rifle across my lap. Twice I had ambushed men I didn’t know. This was not what I had expected when I came out West. I had heard the stories and expected to see more violence than in New York, but I was confident that if I used my head I could avoid getting embroiled in it myself. How had this come about? Bad friends? No, Sharp and McAllen were good men. I would have befriended them if I had encountered them in the city. Circumstances? If it were mere misfortune, then it seemed an unusually long string of bad luck. My character? Did some part of me crave this kind of excitement? Some things in my past made me wonder. Damn, I hoped not.
Suddenly, I heard my name. When I peeked over the edge of the boulder, I saw that Sharp was on the road making sure our targets wouldn’t suddenly spring to life and return shots in our direction. I should have been doing the same instead of wallowing in self-recrimination. I stood and waved my rifle before making my way down the pile of rocks.
When I got to the road, Sharp said, “All dead.”
“Sorry I went against our plan. I was afraid we wouldn’t get a better opportunity.”
“Hell, I was prayin’ ya’d start shootin’. I had a clear bead on both of ’em. Surprised me ya took out one of my men first, though.”
“I felt if I jumped early, I needed to make it easier for you.”
“I was ready.” Sharp gave me an odd look. “Steve, that was a joke about shoutin’ howdy.”
“I know, but it occurred to me that it was a good way to get them to swing toward me so I’d have a better shot.”
“Good, ’cuz there ain’t no gentlemen’s rules in this type of engagement.”
>
I looked around at the dead bodies. “I noticed.”
“These men were goin’ to do the same to McAllen an’ his men.”
“I know. It’s just that this is the second time I’ve killed men without warning.”
I’m not sure what I expected from Sharp, but what he said next took me by surprise. “Those back-shooters deserved to die. Probably already done worse. If ya want to feel bad about somethin’, feel bad about them Utes. They hired on to snatch Maggie, but they only did it to get provisions for the winter.”
He was right. “Thanks, you made me feel better and worse at the same time.”
“Now I got company.” He slapped me on the back. “My pa used to tell me that I didn’t need to worry about right an’ wrong as long as I continued to worry about right and wrong.”
In an odd way, that made sense. As long as you let your conscience needle you, you wouldn’t slide into that dark abyss.
I shook off my melancholy and asked, “How does this play out from here?”
“Well, Mr. Dancy, some would say we shoulda thought about that before we started blastin’ away.”
Sharp’s comment wasn’t that funny, but I laughed from nervous release.
“How ’bout we put our heads to it while we get these bodies out of sight.”
We hauled the bodies deep into the ravine and piled rocks on top of the corpses as a crude burial. After we huffed back up to the road, we slowly led their horses by the reins to the glade where we had tethered ours. We talked through the alternatives on the mile walk and settled on a course of action. It was a risky plan, but if it worked, it would close this episode for good.
Chapter 49
After hours of shivering cold, I welcomed seeing a star wink out in the gathering glow of dawn. Sharp insisted that a fire could be smelled from miles away in the crystalline air, so we just huddled together with our backs against the fallen tree. We shared the flask until it was empty, and then we periodically held it upside down over our mouths, tipping it back and forth in the futile hope that a drop had miraculously eluded our prior efforts.
Leadville Page 20
