“Salty lied to me about the reward or they may have raised it. I will ride down to Horse Thief Basin and find him.”
“With your men?”
“Of course.”
“Is Fred ready to go along?”
“He may as well. He has to learn. He can hold the horses and help Jesus cook.”
She nodded. “He will come back from there six feet tall.”
“He’s not lied to us about one thing. He can harness and drive a team, shoot a rifle, and a pistol. He needs one—”
“He could handle mine. I shall loan it to him.”
“That is fine with me.”
“You be careful.”
“Of course.”
They took two packhorses. Chet found a smaller saddle for the boy, selected a roan horse that Liz rode, and they left early. Fred led the packhorses and took some teasing. They took the back way going by the Iron Mountain Camp. Since mining operations were spread all over the Bradshaw Mountains, they’d have a tough time finding Sutter if he was even in the area. The picture wasn’t great, but they had an idea what he looked like and if he was with the woman, they might be easier to find.
Chet rode side by side with Fred for a while. “In case of trouble, try to keep your head down, hold the horses, but when things get hot find cover. We can get more horses, but finding a new boy may be a big problem for us.”
Fred nodded. “I savvy.”
“Until you’ve been in a few shooting scraps, I don’t want you shot. Most people we arrest will shoot back if given a chance. One group of rustlers fought till they all were dead rather than go to prison again. So, until you get some experience, lay low. Jesus and Miguel are experienced at this business. Any time things get tougher than you can stand, then bow out.”
“Chet—I been on my own for two years. I been begging and doing odd jobs to survive—this chance you gave me I won’t squander—that’s the word, ain’t it?”
“Yes. A good one. Where did your parents go?”
“Dad got drunk one night. They say he fell in a creek and drowned. I think they drowned him. Six months later, my mother threw me out. Said I was big enough to shift for myself, so she got on a stage to go become a whore in Tombstone where she said they paid in real gold.”
“You never heard from her again?”
“No. I was fourteen when she left. I’d been doing errands, swept the boardwalks for nickels and dimes. Sold newspapers. Went and got folks horses. Worked in gardens for my food. Shoveled horse shit out of small stables and caught stinky pigs. I did it all. But I never stole anything or did anyone harm. There’s some tough kids around town; they beat me up a couple of times. Gangs of them hang together. I got a bat-size club and settled with them. They never picked on me again.”
Chet nodded as he rode beside him climbing the steep mountain road. “I think we see your side of things. I know how tough it must have been.”
“I’m sorry. I ain’t a crybaby, but I thought that night in Preskitt—I thought you needed a slave. I would have been one had you needed one, but all night my belly cramped. Then you and her took and bought me new clothes, brought me to your house, gave me a bath. She cut my hair and let me sleep under your roof in a real bed. Eat real food at your table—I ain’t feeling sorry for myself. I got over that years ago. I just can’t believe what you done for me—that’s why I cry sometimes.”
Jesus had dropped back to ride on the other side. “You have a tough story. Tougher than my own, but, Fred, you are among amigos here. We care for each other.
“You met Miguel’s wife, Lisa?”
Fred nodded and smiled.
“An outlaw was holding her in bondage when we ran them down. A rich man’s son turned outlaw. She went through hell. Like he did you, Chet brought her to the house and his wife helped her overcome all she went through. She was not as pretty as she is now. She trusted no one and she swore a lot, but Elizabeth showed her a better way to live. She went back to church. This vaquero that rides with us, he courted her. You’ve seen her. She’s a lady now.”
“I know I am lucky to be riding with you three, and I am so glad that sometimes I get sad at my good fortune.”
“Oh, you will be fine and cussing the days we have to be out looking for criminals,” Chet said.
“Isn’t he close to the age of your nephew Heck?” Jesus asked. “I never met him but Hampt told me that sad story.”
Chet nodded. “One of the saddest days in my life. I had bought the Quarter Circle Z. Fought to take it back from a crooked foreman. Heck was along with me because he was giving grief to his mother, May, now Hampt’s wife. We were going back to Texas where my family had been in a bloody feud, and my plans were to bring everyone out here from Texas. We were on the Black Canyon Stage headed for Hayden’s Ferry at night and were held up and robbed. They did not recognize me in the dark or I am certain they’d have killed me. They took my nephew as a prisoner so as not to be followed.
“I took the stage guard’s rifle and then took out a team horse and I rode him bareback after them. I don’t think he’d ever been rode before, but we got along.
“I rode all night and found them in a camp thinking they’d eluded everyone. I took them on and shot them until only one was standing. He gave up. I tortured him to tell where that boy was. He finally said, ‘We cut his throat aways back and threw him off the mountain.’
“I was so mad, I must have shot him five times. A couple hours later I found Heck’s body down in a canyon. I carried him up to the road. The posse came by and I told them the outlaws were all dead and the loot was up on the mountain in their camp.
“I went back to the stage robbery site with his body. I was lost about what to do next. A woman, Marge, who later became my first wife, had come down there in her buggy. I think she heard about it on her way into town and rushed to my rescue.
“I don’t think I would have survived except she took charge and arranged everything, funeral and all. That boy had made great changes in his life on that trip. It was a damn shame.
“I had told Marge that I was promised to a woman in Texas. Didn’t matter. She got me through those black days. I went back to Texas and the lady I had promised to marry could not leave there because her father’s health was too bad for her to move him.
“I brought my entire family out here by a wagon train. Marge was there to greet me and I told her I was single. It never changed her stride; she went on taking care of me—until I felt so guilty I married her.”
“You didn’t tell him that she had first paid all your bills including at the bathhouse so you could stay in town that first time.” Jesus laughed.
“I had to tell her it was not my way to take money or let someone pay for me. Paid her back for all that. She wanted me to settle there. After we were married, we had a son Adam and then she was killed in a horse-jumping accident.”
“Lucky thing huh for me that you’re still here? Guys I am ten feet tall riding with you. Thanks for the history lesson. I will try to live up to the ways you three do things best I can.”
“Don’t try too hard. You will fit in,” Chet said.
There were some false front stores and large tents set up for business in the community of Iron Mountain. Some were bars, others offered gambling, and two had scanty-dressed women who came out in the street and offered their services openly to Chet and his men.
Chet noticed Fred got a little red faced at their bawdy offers. He told them no and the four rode on to an open place with ropes for hitch rails between pines.
“Fred, watch our horses. We are going to split up and see if our man is around here. Jesus, you take the far tents and Miguel and I will start from this end.”
They left Fred, and Chet and Jesus walked to the nearest gambling tent. There were several filthy miners inside with shaggy unkempt beards and soiled clothes gambling at cards and the faro wheels.
“What can I do for you gents?” A young woman in a low-cut dress confronted the two of them.
&
nbsp; “I am looking for a guy. Ralph Sutter, you know him?”
“I might. How much will you pay me?” She shifted her hip at him and pursed her mouth.
“I have a ten-dollar bill. I’m going to tear it in half and give you one half. If I find him on your information I will give you the other half and ten more.”
She looked around and quietly said, “Come out back. I can’t talk in here.” Then she raised her voice. “Why sure, mister, I can take care of both of you. Right this way. Bargain prices in the middle of the week.”
She led them out of the tent to another. Once in her canvas-partitioned room with a bed and two trunks she swept her hair back from her face. “I need four dollars to split with my boss for turning a trick with you. Your man Sutter should be dealing cards in the Crazy Horse Saloon in Horse Thief Basin.”
She held her hand out for the four dollars.
Chet paid her and gave her two twenties besides the other four.
“You mean you trusted me?” She blinked her blue eyes in the subdued light in the tent.
“You said it all straight faced. Thanks.”
She cast her look to the ground. “Sure you don’t need my services for all this money.”
“No. We’re lawmen looking for him. You probably saved us a week of looking.”
“Well, mister, go out the back way from here, so they think I did you both a favor in my bed. And thanks. Come back again. I never caught your name?”
“Chet Byrnes. He’s Miguel Costa. We live at Preskitt.”
“Oh, I’ve heard lots about you, sir. Nice meeting you, sir.”
“Thanks for the information.”
She shook her head and waved the money at him. “Best trick I’ve turned in weeks.”
Outside the back way, he sent Miguel, laughing, to find Jesus. They had a good lead. Her cheap perfume was still in his nose. It sure didn’t smell like hay. How did girls like her get locked up in that trade? Like Bonnie and others had been, they wanted wild times to celebrate and have money. Oh, well, he couldn’t worry about them all.
He found Fred seated on the ground rocking on his butt. “You find out where he was at?”
“Yes, Miguel went to find Jesus. Our man is at a saloon in Horse Thief Basin, dealing cards.”
Fred got to his feet and brushed off the seat of his pants. “That’s easy, huh?”
“May have saved us a week looking for him.”
“Who told you?”
“A lady of the night for a few dollars.”
“You didn’t?”
Chet laughed. “No. She was willing but I don’t mess around.”
“I thought not.”
“Here comes Jesus and Miguel. Let’s mount up. I don’t want him getting word we’re looking for him.”
Fred agreed and handed the reins out to the men.
“Boy, you got lucky,” Jesus said about the information.
“Yes. Let’s trot some. We can eat some of Monica’s food on our way.”
The sun was down by the time they reached Horse Thief Basin. The saloons were perched on the hillside side by side with a hundred steps to climb to reach the porch and the swinging doors.
Crazy Horse was the noisy second one. The racks were crowded in front with hipshot horses.
“String a lariat between two pine trees across this street, Fred, and we will use it for a hitch rack.”
“Yes, sir. I got it.”
The horses hitched, the three checked their pistols turning the cylinders to the light shining from the businesses upstairs.
“I have the horses secure.”
“We’ll be back. Preferably with him.”
Chet crossed the dirt road and scaled the stairs to the saloon, his two men watching all around them. They paused at the top and stood for a moment before the swinging doors. Chet strode inside and adjusted his eyes to the brighter lights in the sour-smelling smoke-filled barroom.
There were several tables of players, and like he figured, his man would be facing the front door. He noticed the scar on the man’s cheek as he dealt cards two tables back.
He strode by him for the bar. When he reached it he leaned toward the bartender. “I am a U.S. marshal. Give me, very easy, the sawed-off shotgun from under the bar. I assume it is loaded?”
The man gave a wooden nod and he slipped the sawed-off gun out to him. Chet whirled with it in his hands and pressed both barrels to Sutter’s back.
“You are under arrest, Ralph Sutter. You can live or die right now. Everyone, I am a U.S. marshal. My name is Byrnes. Those two with their guns drawn are my deputies. We are only here to arrest this man. No one will get hurt if you all remain calm. Rise, Sutter.”
The man grumbled but obeyed.
“Miguel, come put cuffs on him and liberate his guns and knives.”
His man removed a short-barrel sheriff model Colt plus two smaller guns and two knives from the prisoner.
“That your money?” Chet pointed at the pot on the table.
“Yeah.”
“Rake it off in his hat, Miguel. He won’t need it where he’s going.”
The crowd laughed.
Chet swung the shotgun around and that silenced them. “Miguel, take him outside. No one make a move.”
With Miguel out the doors and Jesus still covering everyone, Chet slowly set the triggers down, cracked open the gun, and extracted both shells. He gave it back to the bartender, set the ammo on the bar, and paid him with a ten-dollar gold piece.
The man thanked him. He went to the doors and told Jesus he could holster his gun. “There ain’t no friends of Sutter in here.”
The crowd laughed.
They took the stairs down quickly and went across the road. The prisoner stood bare headed, while Fred took the money out of the hat and put it in the saddlebags. Then he put the hat back on him.
“Where is your room at?” Chet asked.
Sutter gave a head toss south. “Fred, bring half the horses. Miguel, the rest. We are going to find his place. One bad step, Sutter, and you won’t ever see anything again. You hear me?”
“Who sent you?”
“Salty, who you cheated on a salted gold mine according to him.”
“That son of a bitch deserved that. He cheated a widow woman out of that money.”
“I don’t have a warrant on him. I have one on you.”
“Jail me. They won’t send anyone after me. I’ll be loose in three months.”
“No. They raised the reward to a thousand dollars. They will come get you. Now where is the money you cheated him out of?”
“I spent it.”
“You are not living that high up here. I can get the hideout from you by holding your head under water until your memory improves or you drown.”
“You can’t—” Chet stared him down. “All right. It is at the cabin I am living in.”
They were walking down the road shadowed from the stars by the tall pines but still visible enough to see things. Chet noticed the crowd had come out on the porch trying to get a look at them, but they were out of the line of sight. The knowledge there were four marshals should keep the greedy ones from trying to jump them he hoped.
The low-walled log cabin was up a holler and a horse nickered at theirs. Good, he had transportation.
Chet stopped him outside. “Who is inside?”
“A doxie named Judy.”
“Wife? What?”
“She’s just a whore.”
“No tricks. Stay here.” Chet drew his Colt and pulled the drawstring that lifted the bar. Quietly he opened the thick door. Gun in hand, he went to the table, lifted the chimney, and lit the lamp. All the time watching the figure under the covers in the bed for any movement.
At the light she sat up, groggily, in her night shift and threw back the covers. “You are back early. How many did you bring for me to entertain tonight? Holy crap—you aren’t Ralph. Why are you coming in here uninvited?”
“We are U.S. marshals. Get some clothes on;
then you sit on a chair and keep your mouth shut.”
Cussing like a sea captain, she purposely dressed with little modesty and took her place where he said. When she started to say something, he shut her up.
Chet called to his men to bring Sutter in. They pushed him onto a second chair.
“Now where is your money?”
He shook his head. “I ain’t got any.”
“He’s telling you the truth. He has to sell my body half the time to play cards.”
“No, he lied to you. Now shut up.”
“There’s enough water in that horse’s trough to drown him,” Jesus said.
Chet gave a head toss. “Do it.”
“You going to drown him?” she asked.
“Unless he tells us where the money is at—yes.”
“You guys are lawmen! I never heard of that before.”
“Stay seated or Fred will tie you up.”
Out back he heard Sutter gurgling and finally in a garbled scream shouted, “I’ll tell you all about it.”
“All of it?” Jesus asked.
“Yeah.”
They brought the dripping outlaw back inside. His hair was soaked and water ran down his face.
“Where?” Chet asked.
“Under the false bottom in the trunk.”
Fred emptied the clothing and things out of it.
Chet leaned over. “Use your knife to cut that seal and lift the false bottom out.”
Fred did as he was told. He lifted the thin board out, and stacked in side by side was money all wrapped up in paper bands.
“Holy cow!” she shouted, “you lying bastard, and you been making me do it for your gambling money.”
Chet shoved her down in the chair. “Now, where is the rest?”
He shrugged. “There ain’t no more.”
“Take him back out there.”
“No, no. You will need a crow bar. It’s in tin candy boxes under the floor, over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room.
Deadly Is the Night Page 22
