Blood Bond 7

by William W. Johnstone

  This was one of those instances. The ground seemed to be closing in around him. He hated to be in such a tight spot, with no escape route.

  He pushed the feelings to one side, and continued to dig. He dug in the direction from where he thought he had heard the voices.

  At the top of the new hole, Sam heard Hart ask, “Jordan, is he going in the wrong direction? Doesn’t he need to go more toward the center, where the dirt and rocks might be less packed?”

  “Hell if I know,” Jordan said. “I’m not an engineer.”

  “You said it right.”

  Jordan said, angrily, “I have a man that does that job for me. Strep, find my engineer, Smithson.”

  “He’s already gone for the maps,” Strep said, pausing in his own digging.

  Sam turned his attention back to the ground. Map or no map, he thought he knew the direction to dig. It was a matter of instinct. His instincts had helped him too many times to count in his young life. He figured it would probably help him out again.

  Sam wasn’t sure how he had done it, but he was pulling ahead of the other men. It was now getting even tighter. It was difficult to maneuver his shovel. In frustration and anger, he started to pound a spot where the dirt seemed to be more loosely packed.

  A tiny spot crumpled into itself.

  Sam pounded harder around the edges.

  The tiny spot dissolved into a larger hole beneath his feet.

  Sam pried more rocks loose, forcing the hold bigger. As he dug, he could hear the rocks falling through the hole and bouncing into the shadows below.

  “I think I’ve got an opening!” Sam said. “Send me down a rope!”

  “Don’t do it, Sam,” Hart said. “If you go down now, you could also be trapped. Let us dig out some more, to make sure it won’t cave in on you.”

  “No. The men down below can’t wait.”

  “Send him down a rope,” Matt said. “He’s made up his mind. If he doesn’t get his way, he may come up shooting.”

  Somebody tossed the rope down to Sam.

  Holding his breath, thinking about the wide open skies of his ranch, Sam lowered himself into the pit.

  Malinda was in the hotel when she heard the explosion. She ran to the window. She watched as the crowd suddenly started rushing toward Jordan’s mine site. A few minutes later, some of the men came wandering back, talking excitedly among themselves.

  She called down and asked, “What’s going on?”

  She didn’t recognize either of the two men. One said, “Somebody’s blown up the mine!”

  “Which one?”

  “Jordan’s.”

  She thought a second, then continued, “What’s happening now?”

  “It’s the damndest thing,” the second man said. “Excuse my language, ma’am. It’s one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen. Some men are trapped in the mine. That halfbreed injun and his friend are leading the rescue effort. And that Hart is helping!”

  The two men shook their heads, as if they couldn’t understand such an unusual situation.

  “Why aren’t you men helping?”

  “Why should we? We’ve got our own claims to work. Why should we help Jordan or Hart?”

  The two continued walking, talking to each other.

  Malinda stepped back from the window, a crazy thought entering her mind. She would go down to the site and help, as well! It would be out of character for her, which would make it even better. She was tired of doing what Jordan wanted her to do. Matt had showed her that sometimes it’s important to take chances, to reach out for something new.

  She looked to her clothes and realized she had nothing appropriate for such rough work. The closest she could come was a dress she sometimes used for her rides in the country. It would have to do.

  It was only a short walk to the mine, but it was long enough that many men in town stopped and stared as she walked. At the mine entrance, men were working with picks and shovels. Matt was helping, though he was also keeping a watchful eye on Jordan and his men.

  “Malinda!” Jordan bellowed. “You get back to the hotel!”

  “I came to help,” she said.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? Get back. Now.”

  In response, Malinda bent down and tried to pick up a stone. It was heavier than it looked, and she almost dropped it. Matt walked over, took it from her hands.

  Jordan hollered, “Malinda!”

  Matt backhanded him, shutting him up quickly and effectively. He said to the woman, “I’m glad you came out to help. There’s plenty of men here to dig. But they could sure use some water.”

  “I’ll get some right now,” Malinda said. She ignored Jordan as she walked away.

  Jordan looked at Matt with hate in his eyes. Matt ignored Jordan, as well.

  Hart joined Matt. “Guess I’m really ashamed of myself now,” Hart said.

  “Why?”

  “Even that girl is helping out. And here I am doing hardly anything.”

  “You’re digging.”

  “Yeah. I know. But Sam’s down there by himself, and I know how he feels about being underground. If I went down there, I might be able to help with some of my engineering experience. Or with my strength. I don’t like to brag, but I can hold my own with any man in this town, pound for pound.”

  “So what’re you waiting for?”

  “Wish us luck.”

  Sam had been concerned about being able to see down in the shaft, but his eyes adjusted to the gloom and enough light was now entering the opening that he could make out most of the features of the mine. As Hart had suggested, only the upper part of the mine had been blown. It had blocked the entrance, but further below, where Sam now was, little damage had occurred except for the rubble that had rolled onto the mine floor. He wondered if Hart could have set the explosion to allow himself to be a hero? If he did, then Sam was a bad judge of character, and Sam was seldom wrong about men.

  Sam heard a faint moan just ahead of him in the shadows.

  After a few more steps, San saw the men. One was straddled on the floor. Blood was seeping from a wound on his head where a falling rock had hit it. Another was trapped beneath a support timber that had fallen.

  Sam examined the bleeding man. He was breathing, but barely. Sam ran back the short distance to the opening.

  “Send down a pry bar!” He shouted. “While you’re doing that, I’m sending one of the men up. He’s still alive, but unconscious!”

  He hurried back to the unconscious man. Behind him, he heard the metallic clatter of the pry bar as it was tossed down to him. Sam picked up the big underground miner as if he were a child. At the opening, he secured the rope around him as best he could. Sam knew that the move might kill the injured man, but it was the only chance he had to live.

  As the men above worked the unconscious man back to the surface, Sam picked up his pry bar and returned to the trapped miner.

  “Can you hear me?” Sam asked. “Can you understand?”

  The other man groaned, but shook his head. He opened his eyes. His face was caked with grime.

  Sam looked over the timber. It was about ten feet long, and had somehow wedged itself tight against the mine wall. Sam pushed, but it wouldn’t budge an inch. He worked his pry bar underneath it at the end away from the miner. This time it moved a fraction of an inch, but increased the pressure on the trapped man. He groaned louder.

  Sam removed the pry bar to reconsider.

  Behind him he heard the sound of falling rocks. He looked back just as Hart appeared from the swirling dust. He was also holding a heavy bar that he could use for leverage in moving the timber.

  “What are you doing down here?” Sam asked.

  “Part of the truth is that you made me damned ashamed up there,” Hart said. “This feud with Jordan has me so rattled I forgot that there’s more to this life than gold and silver ore. A man’s life is worth something. Even the men of the enemy. I thought maybe my experience and knowledge could make this job
a little easier for you.”

  “I didn’t think you had that in you. I didn’t know anybody in this town did.”

  “Of course, the rest of the truth is that this would be the first—and maybe only chance—I’d have to take a firsthand look at Jordan’s diggings. I don’t think there’s much ore here, but you never know.”

  Sam laughed. “Well, at least you’re honest. And I could use your help.”

  Hart looked over the situation, and quickly realized the problem.

  “I’ll take this end, protect this man’s leg, while you pry from that end. With luck, we’ll be able to loosen the timber enough for him to get out.”

  Sam knew that Hart was a strong man, but he didn’t realize how strong until he applied his full force to the log. He almost single-handedly made it crunch and protest, but finally it gave way an inch . . . two inches . . . three inches. Sam applied his own force and the log suddenly raised another inch.

  Except the groaning had stopped. The man had fainted and could not move under his own power.

  Hart also saw the situation. Sam watched with unbelieving eyes as Hart slowly moved position. He shifted so that only one arm was now holding the log. The muscles in his arm were like steel bands. With his free hand, he slowly reached down and yanked the unconscious man free of the timber. The move awakened the man to pain, but at least he was alive and free.

  Almost as if they had been working together for years, Hart and Sam released their hold on the timber simultaneously. It crashed to the mine floor, sending up another shower of dust.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dust filled the small space, covering Sam, Hart, and the miner they had just saved. The heavy timber falling to the floor of the mine sounded almost like an explosion. It made Sam feel as if the walls were closing in on him, sending a chill up his back. The last thing Sam wanted was to be buried underground. He forced himself to remain calm. Hart acted unconcerned.

  “Is there any danger of another cave-in?” Sam asked.

  “Oh, there’s always a danger, but I think in this case the danger is slight,” Hart answered. “Even with the explosion, this still seems pretty solid. It’d still be a good idea to get out of here as quickly as we can.”

  “I’ll go along with that.”

  “How’s our man doing?”

  The dust had now settled enough that Sam could again see clearly. He kneeled beside the miner, who was trying to keep the pain from showing in his face. He wasn’t doing a very good job. His face was pale and covered with grime. He let his breath out sharply when Sam check out his leg.

  “It’s broken,” Sam said to the miner. “But I’ve seen a lot worse. What about your other leg. Can it stand any weight at all?”

  “I’ll try it and see,” the miner said.

  He put his good leg under him, and stood slowly. Sam and Hart let the miner support his weight on them.

  “Any more down here besides you and the other fellow we’ve already gotten out?”

  “No . . . there was just Clyde and me.”

  They walked to the opening, which was getting larger by the minute. As they came into the slightly brighter light, the miner took a closer look at Sam and Hart. He said in surprise, “You’re that halfbreed, Two-Wolves. And you’re . . . Clarence Hart.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “I think I must be delirious.”

  Sam said, “You’re doing just fine.”

  “This is crazy. I was in that crowd that fought you a little while back. If I had the chance, I probably would’ve killed you. So why’d you save my life?”

  “Beats me why I do some of the things I do. Maybe I was born crazy.”

  The miner’s face was still pale beneath the dirt, but he was acting stronger without the weight of the timber resting on his leg.

  “I sure had it wrong about you, and I’ll admit,” he said. “I can tell you one thing. If shooting between you guys starts again, I’m going to be sitting it out. Just because I work for Jordan doesn’t mean I’ll fight anybody on his say-so. Especially when they saved my life.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Sam said. “I hate to see people sucked in on the wrong side, and have to pay for their mistake with their lives.”

  “A lot of other miners will agree with me. Once they see how you jumped in to help, they’ll probably not lift a finger against you, either.”

  Hart called up. “Throw down another rope!” In seconds, another length of rope was lowered. Sam started to tie it around the miner, who was still leaning on Hart.

  “A lot of us aren’t too pleased with Jordan, anyway,” the miner continued.

  Hart asked, “He mistreat you boys?”

  “Not any worse than a lot of other places. It’s just that he doesn’t seem very smart when it comes to mining. That’s what me and Clyde was doing down here tonight. We couldn’t believe our ears when we got the orders.”

  Sam tightened a knot in the rope. He asked, “What orders?”

  “Jordan told us to move our operations. To abandon this mine because it didn’t test out. But, hell, there’s some good diggings down here. Nobody’s found the main vein yet, but there’s enough down her to make some tidy profits.”

  “There, that should do it,” Sam “It’ll probably hurt like the dickens while they’re pulling you out.”

  “I can handle it. Go to it.”

  “Take his up!” Sam called out. The rope tightened, and the miner moved slowly up.

  “You’re next,” Sam said.

  “Not just yet. I want to look at something.”

  Sam shrugged, but followed Hart. The miner ran his hand along the rock wall, sometimes bringing his face close to it as if he were attempting to smell out the secrets of the rock. He finally found a spot that interested him. He had no hammer or chisel, so found a chunk of rock on the mine floor and struck it sharply against the rock wall. A small piece of stone fell off. Hart caught it and put it in his pocket.

  He continued this sequence throughout the small, enclosed area. Finally, satisfied, he said, “I’m ready to go now.”

  “What’s this all about?”

  “These are samples I couldn’t have gotten any other way. They might help me figure out where the main vein is and if I’m on the right track. I couldn’t very well let such a golden opportunity slip by me.”

  “You’re something else, Hart.”

  The miner tossed to the floor the stone he had been using as a chisel. It landed with a soft clink.

  “I’d say it’s time we got out of here. I feel like it’s been a good day’s work and it’s time for a beer.”

  Strep paused in his work as Malinda approached him with a bucket of water. He had been surprised when the woman showed up to help in the rescue effort. He was even more surprised to see she was still around. During all the months that he had served as her informal bodyguard and driver, Strep had never seen the woman even hint at this side of her. She was a local celebrity, and she had acted as if she was a star. Strep knew Malinda was Jordan’s girl, but he still had hoped against hope that she might someday acknowledge him as more than just one of Jordan’s hired hands. Strep’s gun was for hire, and he had not been particular in whom he had worked for. Even so, there were points where he drew the line, and if he could get Malinda interested in him, his working for Jordan would be history.

  No matter, during those months Malinda had done little but look down her nose on him.

  Now, after only one outing with Matt Bodine, who seemed to Strep to be no better than a drifter, Malinda was acting as if she had a heart and a mind of her own.

  No figuring women, Strep thought.

  Malinda stopped in front of him and held out the bucket. Strep took the dipper from the bucket and took a drink.

  “I want to thank you,” Malinda said softly.

  Strep almost choked on the water. “Thank me for what?” he asked.

  “For helping find me,” she said. “I’ll admit I haven’t thought much of you these past few months. You were jus
t kind of invisible to me. And I’m not going to tell you any lies. You’re not my type. But I appreciate your effort.”

  Strep gave back the dipper. He wanted to say something, but no words came out of his open mouth.

  Malinda smiled and moved on to offer water to the next worker.

  Strep stared after Malinda. His attention was broken by Jordan’s voice.

  “That’s disgusting,” he said, lighting a fresh cigar. “Try to be nice to a woman, and they get out of control. Look at her, acting so nice. I’ll take care of her later. In the meantime, Strep, I want you back at the hotel in about an hour.”

  Strep turned to Jordan. Still stunned by Malinda’s words to him, he wasn’t paying close attention to what Jordan was saying.

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell me you got a case of the stupids, too,” Jordan growled. “Do I have only imbeciles working for me? Be at the hotel in an hour. We’ve got some planning to do.”

  “What about the men trapped in the mine?”

  Jordan spit a bit of tobacco to the street. “Have you gone soft in the head? One’s out. The other’ll be out soon enough. As if it made a difference.”

  Strep had about enough. He had served Jordan loyally. He had protected Jordan’s woman, and helped to bring her safely back when she was kidnapped. He was still suffering from the bruises and cuts that he had suffered in his fight with Matt, trying to protect Jordan’s investment. Strep’s gun was for hire, but Jordan had taken it too far.

  Jordan and turned his back and was walking back to the hotel.

  Strep took a deep breath and considered his options. The only way he could be near Malinda was to work for Jordan. He hated Bodine, and the only other option in town was to side with him and Hart’s men against Jordan. His only real choice was to stay with Jordan.

  Back at the mine entrance, the second of the two trapped miners was pulled out of the hole to the ground.