Deadly Trail

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by William W. Johnstone


  A whore came over to smile down at him. The smile was not her most attractive feature because it disclosed a mouth of missing and broken teeth, the result of too many drunken and violent men. And though Mabel Franklin was probably no older than thirty, the dissipation of her profession made her look much older. She was compensating for her loss of looks by showing more of her body, and the dress she was wearing was scooped so low as to show almost all of her breasts.

  She pushed back an errant strand of mousy brown hair.

  “Honey, they tell me you spend a lot of your time down in the adobes with the Mex whores,” she said. “Is that right?”

  Strayhorn looked up at her. “What is it to you?”

  The woman grabbed her breasts and lifted them so that both nipples were clearly visible. “I just thought maybe you’d like to come back to your own kind now, to see what you’ve been missin’ out on,” she said.

  “You offererin’ for free, are you?” Strayhorn asked.

  Mabel laughed. “You are a funny man,” she said.

  “Then go away, I ain’t interested,” he said, making a dismissive wave with his hand.

  The smile left Mabel’s face and, summoning what dignity she could, she shrugged her shoulders, turned, and walked away.

  Strayhorn heard a man’s laughter and looking up, saw No Nose Nelson looking toward him. Nobody who ever met No Nose had to ask how he got his name, for broken cartilage had pushed his nose so far in that it was practically even with the rest of his face.

  “Damn me if I don’t think you hurt Mabel’s feelin’s there,” No Nose said.

  “Whores ain’t got no feelin’s,” Strayhorn replied derisively.

  Although he wasn’t invited, No Nose came over to Strayhorn’s table, bringing his bottle and glass. He refilled Strayhorn’s glass. “On me,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  No Nose lifted his glass and held it toward Strayhorn. Strayhorn lifted his own and returned the gesture, then both men drank. No Nose refilled both glasses.

  “What is it, No Nose?” Strayhorn asked. “We ain’t such good friends that you’ll buy me drinks just to be nice.”

  No Nose chuckled. “You’re a pretty smart man, ain’t you? Yep, you’ve got me pegged all right.”

  “So, what is it? Someone you want me to kill? What?” Strayhorn asked.

  “Someone I want you to kill?” he asked. No Nose laughed out loud this time. “Hell, no, Strayhorn. Anybody I want killed, I’ll do it myself. You know that.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I figured maybe me’n you might go in on a deal together,” No Nose said.

  “Why would I want to go in on a deal with you?”

  No Nose took a swallow of his whiskey before he responded.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “Why would you? Maybe because nothin’ you’ve tried recently has worked out for you?”

  “I’m doin’ all right,” Strayhorn said.

  “How much money did you get from holding up the train?”

  “What train?”

  No Nose laughed. “Strayhorn, there ain’t a man or whore in Dorena but what ain’t laughin’ at the mess you made with that train robbery. You managed to get four good men killed and you came away with how much money? Oh, wait, I can answer that. You came away with none.”

  “A problem came up,” Strayhorn said.

  “Yes, and I know who problem was,” No Nose said. “It was Matt Jensen, the same one that killed Hennessey and Taylor.”

  Strayhorn face registered surprise. “Wait a minute, are you tellin’ me Hennessey and Taylor are dead?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “No.”

  “They was killed by Matt Jensen,” No Nose said. “Happened in Colorado Springs a couple of weeks ago.”

  Strayhorn shook his head. “I hadn’t heard anything about that,” he said. “You sure that’s true?”

  No Nose nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. Pauley Moore rode in this morning with the news,” he said.

  “And you believe him?”

  “It ain’t just what he said. He brought a newspaper with the story.”

  “I’ll be damn.” Strayhorn took another swallow of his whiskey and thought for a moment before he spoke again. “Well, the dumb sons of bitches wanted to go off on their own,” he said. “So I reckon what happened to ’em ain’t none of my concern.”

  “That’s the way I look at it,” No Nose said. “So tell me. Would you like to team up with me on a job?”

  “What is the job?”

  No Nose shook his head. “No, I’m not ready to tell you that yet. Not until you agree that we are going to work together.”

  “Well, if you have the idea for a job, why do you even need me?” Strayhorn asked.

  “Because this job needs more than one person,” No Nose said. “And you’ve got Teech and Decker with you.”

  “So, what you are saying is, you don’t just want me, you want all of us.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there enough money for that?”

  “How much money does the governor of Colorado have?”

  Strayhorn shook his head. “How much money does the governor of Colorado have? What the hell does that have to do with anything? What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it when you agree to come in with me.”

  “All right,” Strayhorn said, nodding his head. “Let me hear it.”

  Denver

  The Denver depot was teeming with activity as trains arrived and departed, their whistles and bells augmenting the chugging sound of steam engines in operation. Out in the car shed, smoke and steam swirled between the several trains before drifting up to gather in little clouds under the high roof. The shed was heavy with the aroma of smoke and expended steam, as well as various prepared foods being offered by the many peddlers who were working the crowd.

  Inside the main building, scores of people were scurrying about, buying tickets, or making arrangements for their baggage. The wooden floor of the depot vibrated slightly with the arrival or departure of every train, thus creating the illusion that the very building was alive.

  Millie St Cyr, Norma Jean Proudy, Sue Kendal, and Annie Jones had come to see Layne McKenzie off, but a moment earlier Millie had disappeared. Now she came back, holding an artificial flower.

  “I saw this in the little shop when we came in,” Millie said as she began pinning the flower to Layne’s blouse. “And I knew I had to get it for you.”

  “Oh, how lovely,” Layne said, running her fingers lightly through the colorful silk. “I shall wear this on the very first day I teach school.”

  “And think of Denver and all your friends out here,” Millie said.

  “I will,” Layne promised. She embraced all of them. “I will never forget any of you, and I will think of all of you often.”

  “I am so glad your uncle invited you to come to Denver,” Norma Jean said.

  “Yes, I am too. It has been a wonderful summer,” Layne said. “I hate going back East.”

  “You wouldn’t have to go back,” Millie said. “Your uncle is the governor of Colorado. I know he could get you a job teaching school here in Denver.”

  “It’s tempting,” Millie said. “It really is. But I’ve been out here for almost five months now, and I’m anxious to see my mother and father. Also, it wouldn’t be fair to the Cairo school system if I left now. They are counting on me to take the job I contracted for.”

  “I know,” Millie said. “It’s just that we have become such good friends that I don’t want to see you go.” Suddenly, a large smile spread across her face. “Oh, I know something that might change your mind. Think about this. If you stay here, you will probably see Matt Jensen again.”

  Layne laughed. “As if that meant anything,” she said.

  “I know, your contract says you must stay single. But you have to admit you probably won’t find another man like Mr. Jensen back in Cairo, Illinois.”


  “Nor anywhere back East,” Sue added.

  “It doesn’t matter what my contract says about getting married,” Layne said. “It is quite obvious that Mr. Jensen has his own life to live. And quite frankly, so do I. So, I’m afraid that using Matt Jensen as an incentive to keep me out here won’t work.”

  “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try,” Millie said, and the others laughed with her.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” someone shouted through a set of stand-mounted megaphones. “The train to Mountain Springs, La Junta, Dodge City, Wichita, and all points east will be boarding on track number seven in fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s my train. I guess I had better be boarding,” Layne said.

  “What about your luggage?” Millie asked.

  “Uncle John took care of that for me,” Layne said. She looked around at the crowd. “Oh, I wonder where he is. I certainly don’t want to leave without telling him good-bye and thanking him for such a wonderful summer.”

  “Here he comes,” Annie said, pointing to the mustachioed governor, who was working his way through the crowded floor of the depot.

  “Is it true that he is trying to get the right to vote for women?” Norma Jean asked.

  “That is what he told me,” Layne said.

  “He is certainly a forward-thinking man. You are so lucky to have him as your uncle.”

  “I agree,” Layne said. She embraced her uncle as he came up to her. “Oh, Uncle John, I’m glad you are back. I was afraid I might have to leave before telling you good-bye.”

  “You needn’t have worried about that. I wasn’t about to let that happen,” Governor Routt said. “Come along, I’ll show you your car.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to board until I have to,” Layne said. “I’m still visiting with my friends.”

  “They can come too,” the governor said. “They can come onto the car with you.”

  “Oh, we would just be in the way of the other passengers who are boarding,” Millie said.

  The governor chuckled. “No, you won’t,” he said. “Trust me.”

  Puzzled as to what mystery her uncle was concealing, Layne and her friends followed him out of the depot into the car shed. They moved along the platform at the end of the tracks, passing trains that had been backed into position until they reached Track Number Seven. There were a few porters standing there, and when they saw the governor they smiled.

  “Right this way, Governor,” one of them said. “Your car is all ready for you.”

  “Your car?” Layne said. “Uncle John, what is he talking about?”

  “You’ll see,” the governor replied, merely adding to the mystery.

  They walked practically the full length of the train, passing day coaches, sleepers, and Wagner Parlor cars. Then they reached the first car just behind the baggage car. Beautifully varnished, the car glistened. It differed in appearance from the other cars because there were fewer windows, and the windows it did have were larger, and had curtains.

  “Here you go, my dear,” the governor said.

  “What is this? I don’t understand?”

  “This is my private car,” Governor Routt said. “I’ve made arrangements for you to be able to use it all the way to Cairo.”

  “But can you do that?”

  “Of course I can,” the governor replied. “This car belongs to me personally, not to the state of Colorado. All it requires is that I make arrangements with the various railroad companies to pull it. And those arrangements have all been made.”

  “Oh!” Layne said. “Oh, my!”

  “Can we see the inside of it?” Millie asked.

  “Yes, that’s why I invited all of you to come see her aboard,” the governor replied. He held out his hand in invitation. “Climb aboard,” he offered.

  Layne had never seen anything as lush as the interior of the car. The walls were painted red and liberally hung with red drapery. A red overstuffed sofa sat on one side of the car, while two red-cushioned, white-wicker chairs flanked a marble-topped desk on the opposite side. At the back of the car was a separate room, with walls of walnut. Inside this room, which could be completely closed off, was a bed.

  “Oh, it is absolutely beautiful!” Layne said.

  “I thought you might enjoy it,” the governor said. He took an envelope from his pocket. “And ladies, if you would like, you can ride as far as Pueblo with her. Here are tickets for your return trip.”

  “Oh,” Millie said. “I wish I had known this earlier so I could tell my family.”

  The governor chuckled. “I have already spoken to your families, and they have all given their permission.”

  The young women squealed in delight.

  A young black man, dressed in white, came into the car then.

  “Governor, the train is going to pull out in five minutes,” he said.

  “Thank you, Travis,” the governor said. “Ladies, this is Travis. He is the porter who is assigned especially to this car. He will deliver your meals to you and take care of anything you might need.”

  The engineer gave two short whistles then, and Governor Routt, with a final wave, stepped down onto the long, narrow brick path that stretched between this train and the train on Track Number Six. He stayed there until the train pulled out, while the girls moved to the windows to wave good-bye.

  Ten minutes later, the train was on the main track, picking up speed as it left the city of Denver behind.

  “Are one of you ladies Miss Proud?” Travis asked.

  “Yes, I’m Miss Proud,” Norma Jean said.

  Travis held up a box. “This was delivered to the train just before we left,” he said. “The man said it came from your mama.”

  “Oh!” Norma Jean said as a broad smile spread across her face. “It’s my tatting! And there is enough here for all of us to do!”

  Excitedly, the young women went through the box, then accepted the shuttles and pieces of work from Norma Jean.

  “Oh, no,” Layne said, holding out her hand. “I would just make a mess of it.”

  “Oh, tish tosh, you can do it,” Millie said. “We’ll help.”

  For the next three hours, the young women tatted and talked. Layne tried to keep up with them, but was able to do so only because one of her friends would always take her work from her to get her through difficult spots.

  At noon, Travis came into the car pushing a cart on which there were four covered trays. Travis set the table with elegant china, sparkling crystal, and shining silver. Then he lifted off the covers to present the meal of baked ham, glazed carrots, creamed Swiss chard, and a dessert of chocolate cake.

  “Oh, my, what a feast!” Norma Jean said.

  After a long and leisurely lunch, the girls spent the remaining two hours in conversation, laughing at stories they shared from their youth and reminiscing over the summer just passed.

  “Ladies,” Travis called after a while. “We’re comin’ in to Pueblo.”

  “Oh, dear,” Millie said. “This is where we get off.”

  Quickly, they gathered up the tatting work and put it back into the box. Norma Jean started to pick it up, but Travis reached out to take it from her.

  “No need for you to have to carry something that heavy,” he said. “I’ll find someone to handle it for you.”

  “Thank you, Travis,” Norma Jean said. “Oh, wait,” she said. Reaching down into the box, she took out the handkerchief with the tatting Layne had done. “Something to remember us by,” she said.

  “Ha!” Layne replied. “It’s just that I did such a poor job with it that you don’t want to keep it.”

  The girls laughed. Then they embraced, exchanged tearful good-byes, and extracted a promise from Layne that she would return for another visit next summer.

  Layne watched them through the window, waving at them as they hurried to catch a train back to Denver.

  “Oh, don’t I have to change trains here?” Layne asked Travis.

  “No, ma’am,” Travis repli
ed. “All we have to do is just stay put. A switch engine will come pick us up directly and take us over to another track, where we’ll be hooked on to a train going East.”

  “Oh,” Layne said with a smile. “That certainly makes traveling easy, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it truly does,” Travis replied.

  A moment later, Layne felt the bump as the car was picked up by a switch engine, then moved to another track. A short while after that, they were hooked onto a new engine and, as dark was falling, they pulled out of the station.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After the others left the train, Layne settled down to make the rest of the trip by herself. She had to admit that the car was luxurious; if she had been traveling in one of the regular coaches, she might be uncomfortable, but at least she would have someone to talk to. In this car, especially now that all her friends had left, she was all alone.

  There were a couple of books to read, but she found that reading while riding made her nauseous. She tried to entertain herself by looking at the scenery through the window, but the eastern half of Colorado offered little in the way of interest.

  She had thought that perhaps she could meet someone over lunch or dinner, but to her chagrin, Travis delivered the meals to her. By the time it was nine o’clock, Layne was ready to go to bed, not so much because she was tired as because she was bored. She had Travis turn down the bed for her, then slipped in between the sheets and, with the rhythmic clacking of the wheels providing a soothing background noise, fell into an early slumber.

  Mustang Creek

  No Nose Nelson, Strayhorn, Teech, Decker, and Pauley Moore waited in the dark alongside the track.

  “What makes you so sure the train is going to stop here?” Teech asked.

  “The train has to have water, don’t it?” No Nose replied.

  “I reckon so,” Teech answered.

  No Nose pointed to the water tower that stood alongside the railroad tracks.

  “Well, there’s the water. That means the train will stop.”

 

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