Quest of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  “Bull,” he called over his shoulder to Bannion, who was just behind him. “Make sure you and the men pick up the weapons, especially from the wounded men. We wouldn’t want them taking potshots at us while we get the safe open.”

  Ignoring the pitiful crying and moaning of injured men all around him, he climbed up on the stack of broken lumber, pulling boards aside until he was standing next to the big iron safe lying on its side in the wreckage.

  After examining the safe’s door for a moment, he saw that it had a combination lock on it, just as Albert Knowles had said it did.

  He reached into the gunnysack he was carrying, and took out a stack of dynamite sticks he’d tied together with a piece of twine. He wedged the dynamite under the door just next to the dial on the lock, and took his cigar out of his mouth.

  “You ready, Bull?” he called.

  Bull, who was standing nearby with several other members of the gang with their arms full of new rifles, took one look at the large stack of dynamite and began to walk rapidly away from the car.

  “Yeah, Boss, just let me get a little bit farther away ’fore you light that bundle.”

  As Hammer put the bright orange tip of the cigar against the fuse, a wounded man lying a few yards away croaked, “No, mister, please don’t.” The man struggled to hold out his right arm, which was bloody and mangled from the explosions.

  “Sorry, pal,” Hammer said as he began to trot away from the dynamite. “Guess this’ll teach you not to work for the Pinkertons no more.”

  Hammer crouched down behind a nearby overturned car with his men, and covered his ears with his hands, waiting for the explosion.

  A few moments later, the dynamite blew, with a resounding clap of thunder that shook the ground and raised a cloud of dust that billowed out and engulfed Hammer and his men.

  Broken boards, body parts, and even one of the wheels of the car were blown into the air and rained down around them like hailstones

  “Jesus, Boss,” Bull said as the heavy iron wheel of the car landed a few feet away from them with a loud thud. “Maybe you shouldn’t’ve used so much dynamite.”

  Hammer grimaced. Bull was right, but he knew he’d had to be sure the amount was enough to open the safe.

  He stepped out around the edge of the car they’d been hiding behind, and walked through the dust cloud toard what remained of the boxcar. Hammer was surprised to see a large crater over three feet deep where the safe had been. The wounded man who’d been near the safe was nowhere to be seen. He’d been blown to bits by the explosion.

  The safe was lying open, its door bent and twisted with one hinge completely off. Piles of paper were burning, small bits of the bills rising on heat waves into the air, glowing like fireflies on a summer night.

  “Damn it!” Hammer said, running over to try and salvage what he could of the payroll. Knowles hadn’t told him the railroad was using paper money to pay the railroad workers their salaries. He’d just assumed it would be in gold or silver coin.

  “Where’s the gold, Boss?” Bull asked, standing behind Hammer as he knelt and tried to snatch some of the bills out of the safe before they all burned pp. Ignoring the fire, he stuck his hands in the remains of the safe and pulled out several tightly wrapped bundles of hundred-dollar bills.

  “There isn’t any, Bull,” Hammer said disgustedly. “Those assholes are paying the men with Canadian paper money, not gold.” He glanced down at the packets of money in his scorched hands and made a quick calculation.

  “Aw, shit,” Bull said. “You mean we did all this for nothin’?”

  Hammer stood up, smiling and holding up the bundles of bills he’d been able to salvage from the fire.

  He took a deep breath. “Not exacdy for nothing,” he replied. “It looks like we got about fifty thousand dollars here, boys, give or take a few thousand. Not exactly bad pay for one day’s work.”

  Juan Sanchez, one of the gang members, scowled. “Sí, but you said there would be over five hundred thousand in it for us,” he groused.

  Hammer turned hard eyes on Sanchez. “You don’t want your share, Juanito, that’s fine by me. Course, I’ll bet you can’t remember the last time you had over a thousand dollars cash in your hands at one time, can you?”

  When Sanchez shrugged and grinned, Hammer turned and looked at the bodies scattered around the wreckage, saying to Bull, “Send the man out to search the bodies. Take anything of value, including watches and any guns they’re carrying.”

  Bull made a face. “But Boss, some of them bodies have been torn apart. We’ll get all messed up with blood and guts an’ stuff.”

  Hammer glared at Bull. “Just do it, Bull. You’ve had blood on your hands before, and after all, you’re being paid pretty damn good for it.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down and hide his disappointment at the small amount of money they’d gotten. He added, “Pretty soon they’re gonna realize this train is behind schedule and they’re gonna be sending a posse out here to see where it is. I’d kind’a like to be long gone by then.”

  “Sure thing, Boss,” Bull said, an expression of distaste on his face as he glanced around at the bodies lying all around them. “I’ll get the men right on it.”

  15

  Xiang Chang walked slowly through deep forest on top of a hill. His head was bent down and he stared at the ground, searching for the big, brown mushrooms his friends loved so much when chopped and fried in his ancient wok and mixed with rice and fish heads.

  So far today, he had found almost three pounds of the mushrooms. Dinner tonight would be special indeed.

  In the distance, he heard the mournful-sounding cry of the large steam engine coming toward him. He paused in his search to stand and peer through the trees to watch it approach, billowing huge clouds of-steam from the turret on the top of the engine.

  Xiang ducked as the engine suddenly lurched to the side and slid slowly off the tracks, plowing up twin furrows of earth with its wheels until it toppled to the side and slid to a stop.

  Huge flames leaped from the engine as the boiler exploded and tore the engine to pieces.

  His hands went to his mouth when he saw dozens of men rush from the underbrush on either side of the rail tracks and begin to throw smoking sticks at the cars that had followed the engine off the tracks.

  Several more explosions boomed across the valley between the ruined train and Xiang as the rail cars jumped and came apart in the air under the influence of the dynamite wielded by the men swarming toward the train.

  Xiang winced at the sight of so many bodies being thrown into the air, and he dropped his precious sack of mushrooms and ran toward the mule that had carried him from the rail camp. He had to get back and warn the big boss man about what had happened to his shiny new train.

  * * *

  Tom Wilson had the men lined up and ready to depart, along with several packhorses loaded with supplies, extra ammunition, and tents, when Bill Van Horne came running toward them, waving his arms and shouting for them to wait.

  Wilson pulled his horse’s head around and sat in the saddle, leaning forward with his arms crossed over the pommel as he waited to see what was so all-fired important as to hold up the surveying party.

  Van Horne stopped running when he got to them and leaned over, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

  “Slow down a mite, Bill,” Wilson said with a smile. Van Horne was much too fat to be exerting himself like this. “You’re gonna kill yourself runnin’ like that.”

  Two smallish Chinese men were close behind Van Horne, and stood patiently, waiting for him to ask them to tell their story.

  Finally, after Van Horne had caught his breath, he straightened up. “We got trouble, Tom. Bad trouble with the payroll train.”

  Wilson grinned. “What else is new, Bill? There’s always something goin’ on out here. What happened? Didn’t they send enough money from headquarters?”

  “It’s not that, Tom,” Van Horne said, his face serious and grim. �
��The payroll train is overdue and this man has some information about it.”

  Wilson and the others turned their gaze to the two Chinese men. One, who looked older than the other, spoke. “This man is Xiang Chang,” he said, inclining his head toward the other man. “He speaks no English, so I will translate his story for you. He was out a few miles from town picking wild mushrooms to use in the camp cooking, when he saw a group of men attack the payroll train. He says there was a large explosion, as if many sticks of dynamite were used, and it caused the train to run off the tracks and turn onto its side. Soon, further explosions occurred and several of the train cars were blown up into many pieces.”

  “Tell them about the men on the train,” Van Horne said, his eyes tortured and sad.

  The first man spoke to the other in Chinese for several seconds, and then replied in English, “He says there were very many bodies lying on the ground among the wreckage. It was his opinion that few survived the attack.”

  “How many men were in the attacking party?” Smoke asked, joining in the discussion.

  After a few more words between the two in Chinese, the interpreter answered, “He didn’t count them, but said more than two dozen.”

  Van Horne said, “That’s enough, Chiu. We won’t need you any longer.”

  After the two Chinese left, he turned to the group. “Almost every one of my security men was on that train,” he said.

  “Why are you telling us this, Bill?” Wilson asked. “We’re a surveying party, not part of your security forces.”

  Van Horne took a deep breath and turned his attention to Smoke. “Uh, I was wondering if you’d be willing to head out there and see what you could do, Smoke. You have a certain . . . reputation for handling men like this, and since my Pinkertons are probably out of commission, I’m in desperate need of someone who knows his way around a gun to take charge of this mess.”

  Smoke pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. “How thout if I take Louis and Cal and Pearlie with me, leaving the mountain men to help Tom with the survey until we can get back and catch up to them?”

  Van Horne glanced over at Wilson. “That all right with you, Tom?”

  Wilson shrugged. “Sure. We ain’t gonna get into any hairy areas for at least a week. The first part of Fleming’s trail is pretty straightforward until we get up into the mountains, an’ I’m gonna be leaving a blazed trail for the railroad workers to follow anyhow. I don’t see where it’d be a problem, long as they catch up to us ’fore we get into Stony Indian territory.”

  Smoke nodded. He looked around. “That all right with you?” he asked his friends.

  Louis grinned. “Hell, yes. I’m ready for a little excitement, so this will be a pleasure.”

  Cal and Pearlie nodded. “We’re with you, Smoke, an’ where you go, we go,” Pearlie said, his jaw tight and set, while Cal just nodded his agreement.

  Smoke looked back down at Van Horne. “Get me another packhorse and load it up with plenty of ammunition, some extra firearms, a Sharps if you have one, and enough food and supplies for two weeks. By then, we’ll either have them, or they’ll be long gone.”

  “All right,” Van Horne said. “You and your men head on out to the wreckage site, and I’ll be right behind you with some wagons and our medical people to see how many of the Pinkertons we can save.”

  Tom Wilson walked his horse over to Smoke’s mount. He stuck his hand out. “Ride with your guns loose and loaded up six and six, Smoke,” he said. “Anyone who’d kill that many men just to steal some payroll ain’t to be trifled with.”

  Smoke nodded. “I’ve met plenty of that kind before, Tom,” he said, his eyes flat and dangerous-looking. “I know how to handle them.”

  Bear Tooth called, “Don’t give ’em no quarter, Smoke boy. Just shoot ’em down like the animals they is.”

  Ten minutes later, Van Horne had two packhorses loaded with what Smoke had asked for, and Smoke, Cal, Pearlie, and Louis put their spurs to their mounts, the pack animals following on dally ropes wrapped around Cal and Pearlie’s saddle horns.

  Van Horne told them to just follow the tracks out of town and they’d come to the ambush site within a few miles, according to the Chinese man.

  They rode on the cleared area right next to the train tracks so they wouldn’t have to slow down to weave through the forests and woods that were thick in the area.

  It took them less than an hour, pushing the horses as fast as they could, before they could see dark smoke rising on afternoon air currents to cover the sky like storm clouds ahead of them.

  Smoke slowed his mount and loosened the hammer thongs on his pistols as he pulled his Winchester ’73 from its saddle boot and jacked a shell into the chamber.

  Cal wrinkled his nose as he checked the loads in his own rifle. “Jiminy, what’s that godawful smell?” he asked no one in particular.

  Pearlie looked at Smoke before he replied, “That’s the smell of burning flesh, Cal, an’ once you smell it, it’s a smell you never forget.”

  Smoke and the others walked their horses around a turn in the tracks just in time to see a group of men mounting up onto horses and beginning to ride off in a direction away from them.

  Pearlie jumped off his horse, pulled the Sharps Big Fifty from its scabbard on the packhorse, and laid it across the rear of the animal, taking aim at one of the fleeing outlaws.

  “Hold on, Pearlie,” Smoke said.

  “But I can get one or two ’fore they get out of range,” Pearlie protested, his eye still on the raised sights of the Sharps.

  “Yeah, but then they’ll know we’re on their trail,” Smoke said. “Let ’em go for now. We’ll follow them until they make camp, and then we’ll be able to set up an ambush and take out more than one or two before hey know what hit them.”

  “Oh,” Pearlie said, putting the Sharps back in its rifle boot. “I never thought of that.”

  “Smoke’s right, Pearlie,” Louis said, a pair of binoculars to his eyes. “It appears they have us outnumbered five or six to one, so we’re going to have to outthink them as well as outfight them if we’re to have any chance of bringing them to justice.”

  As the robbers disappeared from sight, Smoke said, “Let’s head on down there and see if there’s anyone left alive that we can help until Bill gets here with the doctor.”

  Louis moved his binoculars as he surveyed the scene down by the rail tracks.

  “I think I can see a few men moving, but they all look like they’re in a bad way,” he said. As he surveyed the extent of the wreckage, he added, “It’ll be a miracle if more than a handful are still alive.”

  “I wonder why they didn’t kill all of the wounded men when they had the chance,” Pearlie said.

  “They probably wore masks and didn’t think it was necessary,” Smoke said. “But hopefully, some of the wounded may have heard or seen something that will help us as we track the bastards down.”

  Cal shook his head as he followed Smoke down the rise toward the wrecked train.

  “I gotta tell you, Smoke,” he said, his voice low. “I ain’t lookin’ forward to this job.”

  Smoke nodded. He knew the boy had probably never seen anything like what they were about to experience down below, and truth to tell, he wasn’t much looking forward to dealing with this many casualties either.

  16

  Hammer and his men, their horses loaded down with rifles, handguns, and the personal property of the men they’d robbed on the train, made their way up slopes still partially covered with snow toward the higher elevations of the hills around the ambush site.

  Bull Bannion twisted in his saddle and looked at the rail behind them. “We’re leaving a pretty easy trail for a posse to follow, Hammer,” he said.

  “Don’t worry about it, Bull,” Hammer replied, glancing at the sky, which was full of dark, roiling clouds. “Looks to me like we got us a spring storm coming ’fore too long. By the time it clears enough for a party to catch up with us, we’ll be across the
border and back in Noyes.”

  Bull shivered in his heavy overcoat. “Yeah, an’ with the temperature being so cold for this time of year, it’ll probably be snow rather than rain.”

  “That should take care of any tracks we leave,” Hammer said. “And judging by the number of Pinkertons on that train, I don’t expect the railroad men are gonna have too many security people left to take off after us anyhow.”

  “So, you’re plannin’ on headin’ straight on back to Noyes?” Bull asked as he pulled his coat tighter around him to ward off the blast of frigid air coming from the north.

  “That’s right. We need to lay low for a couple of days, but I plan to come right back here within the week,” Hammer replied.

  “How come?”

  “Think about it, son. We just destroyed the entire payroll for the railroad workers back there. They ain’t gonna take kindly to being told there won’t be no pay this week.”

  “So?”

  Hammer sighed. Bull was dumber than a stump for sure. “Well, Bull, they’re gonna have to send another train right away, just as soon as they can get those tracks fixed. I thought when they do, we might just set up another ambush, maybe a mite further back up the line, and see if this time we can get the money outta the safe without burning it up.”

  “But Boss, won’t they be expectin’ us to do that very thing?”

  Hammer shook his head. “No, I ’spect they’ll think we took off for parts unknown, especially if they follow the direction of our tracks and see we headed back across the border, But even if they do, where are they gonna get another carload of guards so fast?” he asked. “Pinkerton men don’t exactly grow on trees around here.”

  “Maybe they’ll just use railroad workers as guards,” Bull offered.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right, Bull. But railroad workers ain’t exactly experienced gunmen, now are they? Once we blow up that car and commence to shootin’, my guess is they’ll hightail it for the nearest cover, leaving the safe to us.”

  Bull nodded at this expression of wisdom from his boss. “So, I guess that means we’re gonna be camping out tonight in this storm that’s fixing to hit.”