Forty Mile River

by J. R. Roberts

  He left her tent, went back to the main tent to claim his other two girls, the black and the Chinee…

  Ike awoke in the middle of the night as Clint slipped back into the room.

  “Didn’t think you’d be back,” Ike muttered.

  “I need to get some sleep,” Clint said. “After all, we’re starting a long journey tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, we are,” Ike said, “but not until after we get some breakfast.”

  Clint undressed and fell onto his bed. By that time Ike was back to snoring.

  SEVENTEEN

  Ike awoke first, and his moving about the room woke up Clint. Daybreak was streaming through the window.

  “It’s cold,” Clint said.

  “You think it’s cold now?” Ike asked. “Wait ’til we get to Forty Mile. Come on, I’m hungry.”

  To his surprise, so was Clint. He didn’t think he’d be ready to rise so early, but his insistent stomach took precedence.

  He stood up and caught something Ike tossed him from across the room.

  “Long johns,” he said.

  “I picked them up yesterday,” Ike said.

  “Thanks,” Clint said. “These will help a lot.”

  He washed in the basin. Dried himself quickly, but not before he got even colder. It was only when he pulled on the long johns that he got relief. He dressed over them, and was surprised at how much better he felt. He strapped on his gun and turned to his friend.

  “Breakfast,” he said.

  Ike led Clint to a small café in a tent, where he said it was usually too expensive for him to eat.

  “But everybody says they got the best breakfast.”

  They were seated and served, and Clint saw that his friend was right. The steak and eggs were prepared perfectly, and the coffee was hot and strong.

  “There are a lot of good cooks in Alaska,” he said. “I hope some of them have found their way to Forty Mile.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ike said. “Some of them are there.”

  “Good.”

  “After this we can go to the docks and make sure our boats got on their way earlier.”

  “You said the men you hired are reliable.”

  “They are,” Ike said. “I just want to make sure nothin’ went wrong.”

  “Okay,” Clint said.

  “And we can check on our boat. It should be ready and waiting.”

  “And our supplies?”

  “Should be on board.”

  “I hope you’re right, and that there’s enough gold at Forty Mile to make all these preparations worth it.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ike said. “There is.”

  They finished their breakfast and Clint paid the bill. As they walked out the front flap, Clint looked around, wondering if they were being watched.

  “Anythin’?” Ike asked.

  “No,” Clint said.

  “He was out there last night, though?”

  “Yep. I saw him leave.”

  “If he’s gonna try somethin’, it’ll have to be soon, or we’ll be gone.”

  “Suits me.”

  On the way to the docks they passed the Gold Mine Saloon. The body was gone from out front.

  “They really need some law here,” Ike said.

  “Maybe somebody should just appoint himself sheriff,” Clint suggested.

  “Like you?”

  “No, not me.”

  “No, I meant somebody like you, who can handle a gun,” Ike said. “It would have to be somebody like that.”

  “Sure.”

  At the docks, Clint waited while Ike checked with the dockmaster to make sure their boats left on time. He scanned the area, and was sure that neither Bent Miller nor anyone else was watching them. Miller must have learned what he needed to learn the night before.

  Ike returned and said, “The boats got off on time, very early.”

  “Good.”

  “And our boat is being loaded right now,” Ike said. “Our men are taking care of it.”

  “Then I guess we better go back to the hotel and pack.”

  “Shoulda done that this mornin’,” Ike said.

  “That’s okay,” Clint said. “I want to say good-bye to someone first anyway.”

  “Maybe shoulda done that last night,” Ike said.

  “You’re probably right,” Clint said, “but I didn’t, so…”

  They headed back to the hotel. When they got there, they found three men waiting for them in the lobby.

  “Clint Adams?” one man asked. He was heavyset, in his forties, with a busy mustache. He was wearing a dark suit, a white shirt, and a derby hat. The other men were younger, but dressed the same.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “My name is Sean Casey, Mr. Adams,” the man said. Then he pulled aside his coat to show Clint a badge on his chest. “Federal marshal.”

  “I thought there was no law in Skagway,” Clint said.

  “Well,” Casey said, “actually, law has come to Skagway, Mr. Adams…and it’s meself.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Calvin Parker refused to eat in a café or restaurant that was in a tent, so he and Hector went back to where they’d had dinner the night before. They found Bent Miller waiting for them in front.

  “Good morning, Mr. Miller.”

  “Mr. Parker. I assumed I was invited to breakfast?”

  “Sure, why not?” Parker said. “Come on in.”

  They entered and took a table.

  Over coffee, Parker asked, “Did you see what Clint Adams was up to last night?”

  “I did,” Miller said. “He killed a man.”

  “What?”

  “He got into a dispute last night and solved it with his gun.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “In front of the Gold Mine Saloon.”

  “Did he also have a run-in with the law?” Hector asked.

  “There is no law in Skagway,” Bent said.

  “You’re mistaken,” Hector said. “We came over on the boat with the new law in Skagway.”

  “What?”

  “Three men, but one of them was a federal marshal,” Hector said. “An Irishman named Sean Casey.”

  “I didn’t know they were bringin’ law into Skagway,” Bent said.

  “Well, now that they’re here,” Parker said, “could it be possible Clint Adams will end up in a cell?”

  “Since I’m pretty sure they haven’t had time to build a jail, I’d say no,” Bent said, “but if this Casey fella is determined to be the law here, I’d say he’s probably talkin’ to Adams right now.”

  “And maybe it would help him to have a witness who saw the entire altercation,” Parker said.

  “Uh, I don’t think I’d make a real good witness for the law,” Bent said.

  “Maybe,” Parker said, “we should let the new marshal be the judge of that.”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to find the man,” Bent said.

  Parker smiled and said, “We’ll figure it out.”

  Clint was surprised to learn not only that Sean Casey was a federal marshal, but that he had come to Skagway on the same ship.

  “I never saw you on the ship,” he said.

  “No one was supposed to see me, sir,” Marshal Casey said. “Can we talk somewhere?”

  They were still standing in the lobby of the Skagway Hotel.

  “What’s wrong with right here?” Clint said. “We were on our way up to our room to pick up our things.”

  “Leaving Skagway, are you?”

  “As soon as we can,” Clint said.

  “Well, not so quickly, I’m afraid.”

  “And why not?”

  Casey smiled and said, “That’s what we must talk about.”

  “Do you need my friend?”

  “Who is he?”

  “Ike Daly.”

  Casey didn’t even look at Ike.

  “I have no business with anyone by that name.”

  “Ike, why don’t you go up
and pack your things,” Clint suggested. “I’ll be along…as soon as I can.”

  “Okay, Clint.” Ike looked worried, but he went up the stairs, leaving Clint with Marshal Casey.

  “Why don’t we step outside?” the marshal suggested.

  “It’s cold out there.”

  “Really? I find the bracing weather here invigorating.”

  The other two men with him flanked Clint.

  “These your deputies?”

  “They are my…colleagues, and they would also like you to step outside.”

  “I think I’d like a better look at your badge.”

  “Certainly.”

  The marshal pulled his coat aside. If the badge was a phony, it was a damned good one.

  “Satisfied?” Casey asked.

  “Sure,” Clint said. “Let’s step outside.”

  The four men stepped to the door and outside.

  “What’s this about, Marshal?”

  “Well, we know what this is about, don’t we, Mr. Adams? You killed a man last night.”

  “In self-defense.”

  “Do you have a witness?”

  “Yes,” Clint said, “we just sent him away. You said you had no business with him.”

  “Well, perhaps I was wrong,” the marshal said. “I’ll certainly speak with him, but do you have any witnesses who aren’t friends of yours? Someone who could be…dispassionate?”

  “Dispassionate?” Clint said. “No, I have no one who would be dispassionate. Ike’s my only witness, and his life was in danger, too.”

  “I see.”

  “There were four or five men, Marshal, who tried to rob us. I only killed one. The rest got the message and abandoned the idea.”

  “I see. I must tell you, Mr. Adams, if I had an office and a jail cell, I’d be inclined to keep you there while I look into this.”

  “It’s just as well you don’t have a jail, Marshal,” Clint retorted, “because I’d be inclined to resist.”

  The other two men stiffened, still flanking Clint.

  “You should probably tell your colleagues to relax, Marshal…and while you’re at it, have them move.”

  “Gents,” Casey said, and the two men moved to either side of him.

  “Where are you off to today, Mr. Adams?”

  “I’m going upriver to Forty Mile.”

  “And you’ll be there how long?”

  “Indefinitely,” Clint said. “If you decide to arrest me, you’ll find me there. But I don’t think that’ll be the case.”

  “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see,” the marshal said.

  “Are we done?”

  “For now,” Marshal Casey said. “But I’ll be in touch.”

  “Fine,” Clint said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Clint went back into the hotel, and up to his room to pack.

  “You really gonna let him go, Marshal?” one of the other men asked.

  Casey looked at the man and couldn’t recall his name.

  “Would you like to try to take him into custody?” he asked.

  “Not me,” the man said.

  Casey looked at the other man. “You?”

  “No, sir!”

  “Then we’ll let him go upriver,” Casey said. “I’ll know where to find him.”

  NINETEEN

  As Clint entered the room, Ike looked up from the bed and asked, “What the hell was that about?”

  “Apparently we now have law in Alaska.”

  “In Skagway,” Ike said. “We goin’ to Forty Mile.”

  “I figure the marshal wouldn’t be shy about coming to Forty Mile if he had to.”

  “And this was about last night?”

  “That’s right.”

  “That was self-defense.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  “Did he believe you?”

  “I don’t know,” Clint said. “I think he’s going to go looking for witnesses.”

  “Think he’ll find any?”

  Clint shrugged. “Somebody could have been watching from the saloon. But my guess is he’ll be waiting downstairs for you when we get there.”

  “What should I tell him?”

  “Just tell him the truth, Ike. Just tell him what happened.”

  “I can do that.”

  Clint packed his bag and grabbed his rifle.

  “Okay, let’s go down and get this over with.”

  As he predicted, they found the marshal and his “colleagues” waiting in the lobby.

  “Mr. Daly,” the marshal said, “a moment of your time?”

  “Sure,” Ike said.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Clint said.

  He stepped out in front of the hotel to wait. As he stood there, he saw a man in a red uniform walking toward him. It looked like a military uniform. His black boots were polished to a high sheen.

  “Excuse me,” the man said, “can you tell me if this is the hotel where Clint Adams is staying?”

  “I’m Clint Adams,” Clint said. “Can I help you?”

  “Sir, I’m Trooper Allan Craig of the Northwest Canadian Mounted Police. I understand you were forced to kill a man yesterday.”

  “The Canadian Police?”

  “Yessir,” Craig said. “Due to the proximity of Skagway to the Yukon, my superiors felt a need to establish a presence here.”

  “And you’re it?”

  “Um, yessir, I am it.”

  “You do know that there’s a U.S. federal marshal in town also?”

  “Yessir, we’re aware that the U.S. has felt the need to send someone, as well. I don’t see any reason why we can’t coexist.”

  “Well,” Clint said, “you might want to go into the lobby and let him know that.”

  “Is he here? I see he’s ahead of me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Has he interviewed you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could I ask you to repeat to me what you told him?”

  “Sure, why not. I shot a man in self-defense when he and his friends tried to rob us. The other men then ran away.”

  “You let them go?”

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t feel the need to make a citizen’s arrest?” the trooper asked.

  “I did not.”

  “Or turn them in?”

  “To who?” Clint said. “Last night I was under the impression there was no law in Skagway. I now know there are two lawmen here from two different countries. But there’s still not a jail, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, your colleague, Marshal Casey, is in the lobby talking to my friend Ike, who was the only witness.”

  “Very good. Thank you.” The trooper started into the lobby, then stopped. “Are you leaving town?”

  “That’s why I’m holding my rifle and bag.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Upriver to a town called Forty Mile.”

  “I know it,” the trooper said. “If I need anything else, I’ll find you there.”

  “I understand it’s pretty remote.”

  Trooper Craig smiled.

  “I’m Canadian,” he said. “I’m used to places that are remote. Thank you.”

  The trooper went into the lobby. Clint waited another fifteen minutes, and then Ike came out.

  “Finished?” Clint asked.

  “I think so. Neither of them lawmen was talkin’ to me anymore. They was arguin’ when I left.”

  “Let them argue,” Clint said. “We’ve got a boat to catch.”

  TWENTY

  Calvin Parker opened the door of his room in response to a knock. Hector was standing in the lobby.

  “Everything all right?” Parker asked.

  “I’ve got some information.”

  “Come in, then.”

  Hector came in and closed the door.

  “This place is a dump,” Parker said. “Are you sure this was the best place in Skagway?”

  “Best place in Alaska,” Hector
said. “It’s not going to get much better in Forty Mile.”

  “Yes,” Parker said, “we’ll talk about that. Right now let’s hear what you have to say.”

  “We thought there was no law up here,” Hector said. “We were wrong.”

  “How wrong?”

  “Twice as wrong as we could’ve been.”

  “And what’s that mean?”

  “There’s a U.S. marshal and a Canadian lawman in town.”

  “Canadian?”

  “Royal Mounted Police.”

  Parker rubbed his jaw and walked around the room. When he got to the window, he looked down at the muddy street. Then he turned and looked at Hector.

  “They’re going to be fighting for jurisdiction,” he said. “That will probably keep them busy.”

  “Maybe.”

  “What have they been doing?”

  “They both talked to Clint Adams about the man he killed.”

  “Did Miller talk to them?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Tell him to forget it. He doesn’t need to be a witness.”

  “Okay,” Hector said.

  “Here’s the other thing,” Parker said. “Hire Bent Miller to go to Forty Mile with you.”

  “With me?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re not going?”

  “Like you said,” Parker replied, “it won’t get any better up there, and I can hardly stand it here.”

  “Are you going back?”

  “No,” Parker said, “I don’t want to be that far away from my mine.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to stay here and have a house built for myself,” Parker said. “Someplace a man like me deserves to live. And I might have a hotel built—a good hotel.”

  “All that?”

  “Don’t worry,” Parker said, “It’ll be months before you get back here. It will all be done by then.”

  “Miller will be reporting to me?”

  “Yes,” Parker said. “Make him understand that.”

  “Me? Make him understand?”

  “You’re my right hand, Hector,” Parker said. “Start acting like it. Make Bent Miller respect you.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Figure it out,” Parker said. “You’re going to be in charge in Forty Mile, Hector. It’ll be easier if you have Bent Miller as your right-hand man. Understand?”