Those Jensen Boys!

by William W. Johnstone

  “And we’ll ride along with you,” Chance said, “just in case of trouble.”

  “Nobody asked you to do that.”

  “Nope,” Ace said. “That’s why we’re volunteering.”

  Even though it was Chance’s idea, it was a good one, Ace thought. There was at least a chance something else might happen on the way to Bleak Creek, and although the Corcoran sisters seemed plenty competent, it wouldn’t hurt for them to have some allies along.

  Of course, they didn’t know the full story behind the clash between the Corcorans and this mining magnate named Eagleton. Things might not be as clear-cut as Emily and Bess made it seem.

  It was possible, Ace mused, that he and his brother were jumping into this mess feetfirst simply because the Corcoran sisters were a couple mighty pretty girls. Well, there were worse reasons for doing things, he supposed as Bess got the team moving again and the stagecoach lurched into motion.

  He and Chance turned their mounts and fell in alongside it, one on each side.

  “You girls don’t happen to be twins, do you?” Chance asked after they had gone a mile or two across the valley. He rode on Emily’s side of the coach.

  “Do we look like twins?” Emily responded.

  “Well, Ace and I are twins.”

  Bess said, “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

  “Fraternal twins, they call it,” Ace said. “We look alike, but more like regular brothers would.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Emily and I are two years apart, though.”

  “I’m the oldest,” Emily said. “That means I’m the boss.”

  “That’s what you’ve always thought, anyway,” Bess said sweetly.

  Ace chuckled. It sounded like these two scrapped about as much as he and Chance did, even if they weren’t twins. “Is this the first trouble you’ve had with Eagleton?” he asked as they continued toward the mountains on the other side of the valley.

  “No, he made an offer to Pa to buy out the stage line almost a year ago,” Bess said. “Pa turned him down, of course. Mr. Eagleton warned him then that he didn’t like being said no to.”

  “That wasn’t the smartest tack to take with Pa,” Emily put in. “Once he gets his back up, he’s about the stubbornest old pelican you ever saw.”

  “Emily!” her sister scolded her. “That’s no way to talk about our father.”

  “It’s true, ain’t it?”

  “Well, yes, but . . .” Bess took a deep breath and went on. “Anyway, after Pa refused Mr. Eagleton’s offer, things started happening. Breakdowns with the coaches. Shipments of grain for the horses that got lost. Damaged harnesses. Even a few shots out of the blue. That scared some of our drivers. Others got jumped and beaten up. It’s gotten bad enough that nobody wants to work for us, so Emily and I have been taking the runs through ourselves.”

  “Sort of odd to find a couple gals driving a stagecoach and riding shotgun, isn’t it?” Chance asked.

  “Our father’s worked on stage lines all of our lives,” Bess said. “We were raised around them.”

  “You ought to hear her cuss when she gets mad.” Emily grinned. “She can put a lot of those old jehus to shame.”

  Bess’s face turned pink under her hat. “Sometimes I think that sort of language is the only thing those horses understand!” She tried to change the subject by looking at Ace again and asking, “What about your father? What’s he like?”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Ace answered honestly. “We never met him. Or our mother, either.”

  “That’s terrible! I’m sorry. Were you raised by relatives?”

  Chance said, “We were raised by a gambler named Doc Monday. He’s as close to a pa as we’ve ever had. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was our pa.”

  “I don’t think so.” Ace didn’t want to have the old argument again, so he did some subject changing of his own by asking the young women, “What’s this Shoshone Gap you mentioned?”

  “It’s the pass through the mountains on this side of the valley,” Bess explained. She pointed. “You can see it up there, a couple miles ahead. It got the name because the old Shoshone Trail goes through it. It’s a lot easier than Timberline Pass back the other way, between here and Palisade. It’s lower and the slopes aren’t nearly as steep, but there are a lot of rocks and trees on the sides of the gap.”

  “A perfect spot for an ambush, in other words,” Emily put in.

  “Maybe Ace and I should ride ahead and do a little scouting,” Chance suggested. “You know, make sure it’s safe to take the coach through there.”

  “Or to set up an ambush yourself, if you’ve been lying to us all along and planning a double cross,” Emily said caustically.

  “We haven’t lied to you.” Ace was getting a mite tired of the blonde’s suspicions, but he kept his voice calm and level as he went on. “We just want to help, but if you don’t want us to scout ahead—”

  “No, I think it’s a good idea,” Bess said. “Go ahead. We’ll follow along behind you.”

  “Keep an eye on your back trail,” Ace warned as he heeled his horse to a faster pace and pulled ahead of the stagecoach.

  Chance’s mount matched his. “Eagleton’s men might have doubled back after we chased them off.”

  As the coach fell behind them, Chance glanced back over his shoulder. “Maybe one of us should have stayed with them.”

  “One of us meaning you, of course.”

  “They’re just a couple gals. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to them.”

  “Did you see the way Emily handled that scattergun? And Bess put that team through its paces like she’d been driving a stagecoach for forty years. I don’t think they’re exactly what you’d call helpless or defenseless.” Ace chuckled. “Anyway, Emily doesn’t seem to have much use for either of us, and Bess strikes me as too levelheaded to fall for any line of bull that you might try to put over on her.”

  “I think I’m offended.”

  “Fine. Just keep your eyes on the sides of that gap up ahead.”

  As they neared Shoshone Gap, Ace saw that Bess’s description had been accurate. The mountains loomed on either side, but the trail between them wasn’t too steep or rugged. The slopes were covered with boulders and clumps of pine trees. Plenty of places where bushwhackers could hide, he thought.

  However, nothing happened as he and his brother entered the gap. No shots rang out, and there was no sign of trouble. Ace waved a hand toward the slope on the right and told Chance, “Take a closer look over there. I’ll check out this side.”

  They split up. Ace rode up the incline, his big, sturdily built chestnut picking its way across the slope. He drew his rifle from its sheath and rode with it resting across the saddle in front of him. His keen eyes searched every hiding place he came to.

  Looked like they had gotten skittish for nothing, he decided. Shoshone Gap was deserted. Nobody was waiting to ambush the Corcoran sisters and their stagecoach.

  That thought had barely had time to pass through his brain when shots blasted from the other side of the gap.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Chance was approaching a clump of boulders when he heard a rock rattle somewhere close by and then the clink of metal against stone. It was the only warning he had before somebody thrust a rifle barrel over the top of a big slab of rock and opened fire on him.

  He was already diving out of the saddle when the slugs sizzled through the space he had occupied a heartbeat earlier.

  He hit the ground hard, narrowly avoiding some cactus, and rolled over. The gun he carried in his shoulder holster, a .38 caliber Colt Lightning, was in his hand as he came back up on one knee. He triggered the double-action revolver twice at the rock where the bushwhacker was hiding, then surged up and dashed toward some nearby trees. His shots had made the hidden gunman duck momentarily, giving Chance enough time to reach cover, although a couple bullets kicked up dirt near his feet as he ran.

  He darted into the pines, twisted so that he was b
ehind one of them, and pressed his shoulder against the rough-barked trunk, making himself as small a target as possible. Some of that bark leaped in the air as lead thudded into the tree. The ambusher’s bullets searched through the pines for Chance but failed to find him.

  That hombre probably thought he had him pinned down, Chance mused, but there was a wild card in this game. An Ace, to be precise, and he was taking a hand. Chance heard the sharp crack of his brother’s rifle from across the gap.

  Bullets smacked into rocks and spanged off as ricochets. The bushwhacker returned Ace’s fire. All of it blended together into a racket painful to the ears.

  Since Ace was keeping the rifleman busy, Chance risked moving up to the edge of the trees where he could see better. Gun smoke still rose from behind the rock where the bushwhacker was hidden. Chance thought that from his new location, he might be able to bounce a few slugs behind that slab of rock. He sighted carefully and squeezed off three swift rounds, emptying the Lightning.

  He drew back into better cover and reloaded the revolver with fresh cartridges from his pocket. He heard hoofbeats and looked up. A man on horseback, bent low in the saddle, was lunging up the slope toward some trees. The bushwhacker was lighting a shuck.

  Chance sent a couple bullets after him, but the horse never broke stride and the rider was still slashing at the animal with the reins as they disappeared into the trees. Chance didn’t know the terrain and wasn’t going to give chase on foot. It looked like the bushwhacking son of a gun was going to get away.

  As Chance was replacing the cartridges he had just fired, he heard another horse rattling up the slope.

  Ace shouted, “Chance! Where are you?”

  Chance stepped out of the trees and called, “Up here!” He saw that Ace had caught the cream-colored gelding and was leading it. “Be careful! That no-good bushwhacker might double back.”

  Ace had his Winchester in one hand as he rode on up the slope toward his brother. “We’ll make him sorry if he does.”

  Chance holstered the Lightning and looked around for his hat, which had flown off when he dived out of the saddle. He spotted it, picked it up, and flicked several pine needles off before he settled it on his head. By that time, Ace had reached him.

  Chance took the reins and swung up into the saddle. “I reckon you didn’t run into any trouble over on your side of the gap.”

  “Peaceful as can be over there, but as usual, you seem to have a way of attracting trouble.”

  Chance snorted in disgust. “Getting ambushed wasn’t my idea. I promise you that.”

  “Was there just one man?”

  “Only one that I saw, and I never heard but one gun shooting at me. You think he was one of the men who work for that fella Eagleton?”

  Ace shook his head. “No telling, but he sure might have been. He could have been posted here to ambush Bess and Emily if they made it past those other varmints. Or he might have been just a run-of-the-mill owlhoot looking to rob you.”

  “Either way, he’s gone now. Let’s take a look at the place where he was holed up. He might’ve left something behind.”

  They rode over to the slab of rock where the bushwhacker had been hiding and dismounted to look around. Chance found some empty cartridges from the man’s rifle and the butt of a slender black cigarillo, but that was all. The ground was too hard to take boot prints.

  Ace said, “He had his horse over here behind this other boulder, but the ground’s too rocky for there to be any tracks.”

  “Same here.” Chance studied the cigarillo for a moment, then tossed it away. If he ran across a man who smoked stogies like that, it might be worth remembering, but it wouldn’t really prove anything. “We’d better get back to the girls and let them know what happened. They must’ve heard all the shooting.”

  That proved to be the case as Ace and Chance rode out of the gap. They found the stagecoach stopped in the road near the entrance. Emily held her coach gun ready to fire, and Bess had drawn the old pistol from her holster. The young women visibly relaxed as they saw the Jensen brothers riding toward them.

  “Are you two all right?” Bess called.

  “We heard a lot of gunfire,” Emily added.

  Ace and Chance reined in beside the coach.

  Ace said, “Somebody was waiting in the gap, all right. Whether he was there to ambush you or was proddy for some other reason, we don’t know. But after we’d traded some lead with him, he took off for the tall and uncut.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?” Bess asked.

  Ace shook his head. “He was just an hombre on a horse, riding away from us as fast as he could.”

  “So you think it’s safe to go on through the gap?” Emily wanted to know. “You cleaned out anybody who might want to stop us?”

  Ace and Chance exchanged a look.

  Chance shrugged. “That fella’s gone, and nobody else took a shot at us. We didn’t see anybody else, but I don’t suppose we can guarantee anything.”

  “Well, all life is a risk, I guess. Sometimes you’ve just got to take a—” Emily glanced at Chance, stopped short, and frowned. “Get that damn grin off your face, Jensen.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re right, though, about life being a risk.”

  Emily blew out an exasperated breath and told her sister, “Let’s get this rattletrap moving again.”

  Nobody shot at the coach as it rolled through the half-mile-long gap. Ace and Chance had their rifles out, ready to return any fire that came their way, but nothing happened.

  “Plumb peaceful,” Emily muttered as they came out the other side and started down a long, fairly gentle slope onto some flats that stretched for miles to the east.

  Still high enough, Ace was able to spot the settlement several miles away. A dark line cut across the flats beyond the town and he figured that was the railroad Bess had mentioned.

  It took only a half hour for the stagecoach to reach Bleak Creek, named, Ace supposed, for the little stream that meandered past it. It was a decent-sized town with a business district that stretched for several blocks along the main street and quite a few houses on the cross streets. The redbrick railroad station at the far end was the largest building in town.

  “The stage line has an office in the depot, so that’s where we’re headed,” Bess explained to the Jensen brothers. “There’s a stable next door where we keep the coach and the horses.”

  “You should be safe enough here in town,” Ace said. “Chance and I need to pick up some supplies.”

  “So do we,” Bess said. “Why don’t we meet you at the general store once we’ve handled our mail business?”

  Ace nodded “Sure. We’ll be there for a while. When do you start back to Palisade?”

  “First thing in the morning. We always spend the night when we make this run. There are a couple cots in the office at the depot.”

  Chance said, “I see a hotel on the other side of the street. I suppose Ace and I can get a room there for the night.”

  Emily frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re making it sound like you’re going back to Palisade with us.”

  “We thought we would,” Ace said. “If Eagleton wants to ruin your father’s company as much as you say he does, he’s liable to have his men try something else.”

  “We don’t have anyplace where we have to be,” Chance added. “Palisade is as good as any.”

  “Drifters usually don’t have anywhere they have to be,” Emily said, still wearing a disapproving frown. “But I suppose it’s a free country and if you want to ride in that direction, we can’t stop you.”

  “Better be careful,” Chance told her. “Keep talking like that and folks might think you’re warming up to us.”

  “Fat chance of that!” Emily said with a disgusted glare.

  The coach rolled on toward the railroad station while Ace and Chance turned their horses toward a building with MERCANTILE painted in big letters across its front above the entrance. They tied their mounts at a hitch r
ack and climbed the steps to the high porch.

  The store was fairly busy. They had to wait a few minutes for an apron-wearing clerk behind the counter at the rear to ask how he could help them.

  Ace gave the man the list of what they needed—staples like coffee, flour, beans, and bacon—while Chance roamed around the store looking at the various displays of merchandise. He leaned over a glass-topped case and studied several nickel-plated, ivory-handled derringers. He was particularly taken with a two-barreled, over/under model. According to what somebody had written on the piece of cardboard beneath it, the weapon was a .38 caliber, so it would take the same ammunition as his Lightning.

  Ace came up beside him and asked, “What are you looking at?”

  “I want that derringer,” Chance said, pointing at the little gun. “Never can tell when it might come in handy.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the gun you’ve got.”

  “Yeah, but didn’t you ever want something just because you wanted it? And we can afford it. We’ve still got a good stake from that poker game.”

  “We won’t have if we waste it.”

  “Buying a gun’s not wasteful,” Chance argued. “That little beauty might save our lives someday.”

  Ace shook his head. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of it, am I?”

  “Probably not,” Chance replied with a grin.

  “Well, I told the clerk we’d pick up those supplies before we ride out in the morning, so I reckon if you’re still bound and determined to have it then . . .”

  “Oh, I will be.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a second,” Ace said.

  They walked toward the front of the store and stepped out onto the porch to wait for the Corcoran sisters. The stagecoach was still parked in front of the depot, but there was no sign of Bess and Emily, who were probably still inside tending to their business.

  Ace and Chance had been standing there for only a few minutes when Ace said quietly, “Badge coming.”

  A man in a black frock coat and string tie was crossing the street toward the general store. He had a clean-shaven, hawk-like face and iron-gray hair under his black hat. A holstered pistol with walnut grips rode on his right hip. As Ace had said, a lawman’s badge was pinned to his vest.