Violet

by Greenwood, Leigh

  "Jeff!"

  It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard in his life. He stumbled forward and fell into her arms. He kissed her mouth and cheeks and eyes. He could never get enough of her.

  "How did you know I was here?" he finally managed to ask.

  "When you didn't come back, I knew it had to have something to do with the mines. When I met David Chapman, I knew he'd done something terrible."

  "It doesn't matter. We're safe now. As soon as we reach the surface, I'll see Chapman goes to prison for the rest of his life."

  A strange sound assaulted their ears. It was a swishing sound, like something moving through the air so fast it created a noise as it went. The rope. Someone had thrown the rope in after them. They were trapped in the tunnel.

  They were all going to die.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Jeff peered over the edge of the bucket. Most of the rope was coiled inside. The end was caught on something above.

  "The rope broke!" Violet exclaimed.

  "It's more likely your friend threw it in after you," Jeff said.

  "But that means . . . " Violet's voice trailed off.

  "That means somebody wants us to die down here," Jeff said.

  "But I've known Tom Blake ever since he came to Leadville," the clerk said. "He wouldn't do this to me."

  "He probably found he could get a lot of money for betraying you to Harlan and Chapman," Jeff said.

  "You think they did this?" Violet asked.

  "If they're stealing from your uncle's mine, they'd have no other choice." Jeff tested the rope. He pulled hard on it. It wouldn't budge. "It's caught on something," he said. "I wonder what."

  "Probably one of the timbers used for bracing," the clerk said.

  Jeff pulled on the rope again. "It seems to be caught tight. Maybe you can climb it."

  "Why?" the clerk asked. "There's nothing up there but more tunnels."

  "There's no way out at this level," Jeff said. "I've been to the end of both tunnels."

  "There's no way out of any of them," the clerk said.

  "There's always a chance," Jeff said. "The rope's caught fast. We've got to see if it will take us to the next tunnel. I'd go, but I only have one arm." It would be easiest for someone light, but Violet would never have the strength.

  The clerk pulled on the rope. He seemed satisfied it would hold. "I don't know I can get that far," he said. "I ain't worked in a mine for a long time. My arms ain't what they used to be."

  "It's our only chance," Jeff said. "If we die, you'll die with us."

  "My boss will come after us."

  "He doesn't know we're down here," Violet said. "He won't know you're missing until tomorrow. He'll probably wait a day or two before he starts looking for you. Then it'll take him several more days to sort through all the possibilities."

  "And how do we know Chapman might not rig up another bucket on the surface so it looks like nobody came down here," Jeff pointed out.

  "Okay, I'll give it a try."

  "Hold the rope between your legs and pull up with both arms," Jeff advised.

  "I know how to do it," the clerk said, his temper edgy. "I just don't know if I can."

  Jeff didn't say anything more, even when the clerk started to use his feet to push against the wall. Jeff waited, his arm around Violet, a silent prayer in his heart.

  "Can you see where the rope's caught?" he called out after the clerk had climbed about ten feet.

  "No," the man gasped. "It's all I can do to hold on."

  "Wrap your legs around the rope," Jeff suggested, but the clerk continued to climb hand over hand with his feet braced against the wall.

  "Will he make it?" Violet asked in a hushed whisper.

  "If he can just--"

  The rope slipped! The clerk lost his grip and fell to the bottom of the tunnel. Fortunately he missed hitting the bucket. That would have killed him. He merely broke his leg.

  Violet rushed to his side. "We can set his leg," she said, "but he needs a doctor."

  The clerk groaned in pain.

  Jeff looked from the man to the rope and back again. The rope was their only hope of escape. He pulled on it. It seemed to be caught again. Would it hold? Did he have the strength to pull himself up with only one hand? Could he figure out how to do it?

  "Could you see where it was caught?" he asked the clerk.

  "No. It'll probably slip again if you put much weight on it."

  Jeff made up his mind. "I'm going to move you. If I fall, I don't want to fall on you."

  "You can't go up there," Violet protested.

  "I have no choice."

  "But you could fall. Besides, there's no way out."

  "If they've been stealing silver from the Little Johnny, there's got to be a tunnel that connects the two mines. It's not down here."

  Violet give him a brusk hug. "I didn't put up with your rude Yankee comments to lose you now. Be careful."

  Jeff gave her a short, fierce kiss then turned way. He had to get everything out of his mind except the task ahead.

  He studied the rope. It was made of coarse hemp and was about an inch thick. He had to pull himself up with his right arm. Just as important, he had to find a way to keep the rope from slipping while he released his grip and secured one higher on the rope.

  Jeff pulled the rope across his body and under his stump. He clamped down. That was good, but not good enough. He wrapped the rope around his body and caught it between his legs. That was much better. He secured a grip, pulled himself up about a foot, then clamped down on the rope with his arm and legs.

  It didn't slip.

  He worked to get some kind of grip on the rope with his shoes. It wouldn't be much, but he needed to be able to push with his legs while he pulled with his arm. He was strong, but he doubted he could pull himself the thirty or so feet to the next level with just his arm. Jeff released the rope and secured a fresh hold. Using his arm and what push he could get from his feet, he raised his body six inches.

  The strain of hoisting nearly two hundred pounds was enormous. He felt like his arm was about to come out of its socket. Lifting weights had never been as difficult as this.

  Jeff concentrated on six inches at a time. After pulling himself up ten feet, he had to stop and catch his breath, to allow the muscles in his arm to rest. He was beginning to feel the strain.

  He thought of Violet down below. Her life depended on him. He couldn't stop now. With painstaking, deliberate effort, Jeff inched up the rope until he was about twenty feet above the bottom of the tunnel. His muscles screamed in pain; he had a painful rope burn under his left arm; his legs and feet ached from the awkward angle of the pressure he put on them, but he kept climbing. He could see an opening above. There was a tunnel up there. He could reach it if he just kept climbing.

  Five feet away, he could smell the fetid aroma of dung and urine. His lungs gasped for breath; his stomach threatened to rebel. He told himself to hang on. He had to make it.

  When he was two feet away from the tunnel, the rope slipped.

  Jeff hung on desperately though he expected to fall and die. When the rope caught again, it felt like he was being torn apart. The rough hemp tore into the red, swollen flesh of his hand sending searing pain screaming along the nerve endings until it exploded in his brain. Gasping from the sheer agony of it, Jeff bit his lip and struggled just to hold on. If he fell, if he slipped to the bottom, he would never make it to the top again.

  He didn't fall. The rope stayed caught under his stump and wrapped around his body. If he'd been holding the rope in his hands like a normal climber, he'd have lost his grip and fallen to his death. Ironically, being one-armed had saved his life.

  But he had no time to dwell on irony. After a few moments when he thought he might pass out, Jeff was able to push back the pain. Not giving himself time to feel the agony, he reached for a new grip and pulled himself up the next torturous six inches. Every part of his body screamed with pain. His brain kept sendi
ng messages though his nerve endings to his hand to let go, to back away.

  Jeff fought his own body. He thought of Violet and forced himself to hold on. Each time he had to release his hold and take a new grip, he thought of Violet. He thought of the hours he wanted to spend just looking at her, brushing that gloriously thick hair, looking into her eyes, making love to her. He thought of what would happen to her if he didn't climb this rope, if he didn't find a way out, and he somehow found the strength to keep going.

  When he finally pulled even with the tunnel, the sickening odor of dung and urine nearly defeated him. He fought to control his body's convulsions. Using every last reserve of energy and determination, he managed to pull himself into the tunnel and collapse on the cold, wet floor.

  Look at me now, Pa, you goddamned hateful son-of-a-bitch. I did it. You can't call me a worthless coward ever again. I climbed all the way up that rope. And I did it with just one arm.

  Jeff lay on the floor, unmoving. He didn't think he could ever move again. Yet he must. His mouth was dry. His body begged for water. That was his greatest danger. He had been without water a day longer than Violet and the clerk. He would die first.

  Jeff forced himself to move. Even though his hand was so painfully swollen he could hardly move his fingers, he managed to get a candle out of his pocket. He searched until he found some gravel. Using his foot, he mounded it against the candle. He could barely hold the match in his fingers. He dropped it twice before he was able to strike it. The tiny flame lighted the tunnel for only a short distance. Jeff pulled out a second candle and lit it.

  Something snorted. Jeff looked around him, his heart thumping painfully in his chest. Something was in the tunnel with him. His first thought was that Chapman and Harlan had somehow found him, but that wasn't a human snort. I sounded like a horse!

  Taking a candle and holding it above his head, Jeff stared into the darkness. Getting to his feet, he walked slowly forward. Around a bend, he found himself looking at the rear end of a mule harnessed to an ore car.

  He had found the source of the dung and urine.

  Two thoughts hit Jeff simultaneously. If there was a mule here, someone had been bringing him water since the Little Johnny Mine was closed. He had found a way out.

  He was becoming used to the odor. He didn't feel like gagging all the time.

  Holding the light high so he could see, he stumbled past the mule to the bucket of water. Falling to his knees, he leaned his candle against the wall and scooped up a handful of water. It was fresh. He held it in his mouth, moistening the dry tissues and his tongue. Finally he swallowed. Then he drank a second and third handful. Then he stopped. He knew better than to drink too much too soon.

  He stood up and looked at the mule. The animal responded to his presence, but he had been in the mine so long, it was almost blind. But that didn't matter. He could still help Jeff bring Violet and the clerk up to this level.

  He went back to the shaft. He waved his candle into the shaft. "I've found a way out!" he called down.

  "How can we get up?" Violet called.

  "There's a mule up here. Get the clerk to tie a loop in the rope. We'll pull you up."

  "The clerk has to go first," Violet said.

  Jeff didn't like that, but he figured Violet wasn't going to change her mind. It wasn't easy getting the man over the ledge with his broken leg, but he held up remarkably well. In an even shorter time, Jeff was helping Violet into the tunnel.

  He wrapped his arm around her in relief.

  "I thought we were going to die," she confessed.

  "Not us," Jeff said, feeling too good to feel any doubt that they would get out. "I can't be the first Randolph to die. Besides, I've got too much to do."

  "Like what?"

  "Marry you."

  Violet laughed. It was strained, not nearly full throated, but it was a laugh. "It hasn't been a week yet."

  "I feels like it."

  "What about that man down there?"

  Jeff felt the smile freeze on his face. Had she found her uncle?

  "He looks like a miner. I found him a little way down the tunnel. What happened to him?"

  "Chapman threw him down the shaft for helping me," Jeff said. We'll send someone back for him once we get out." He paused. "There's another body down here."

  "My uncle?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I found his wallet. They killed him and buried him under some rocks. There was never any cave-in. This mine is not dangerous. Let me show you what I found." Jeff took her to a point beyond the water. A series of tunnels opened off in all directions. "This is where they get the ore that comes out of the Silver Wave." He picked up a piece broken off the wall. "It looks very rich."

  "How do we know which way to go?" Violet asked. "There's a maze of tunnels down here."

  "I'm depending on the mule to know the way they get the ore to the shaft of the Silver Wave."

  "But how are you going to get us up?" the clerk asked. "Chapman and Harlan aren't going to let us get out if they can help it."

  "I know that," Jeff said, "but they won't be coming down here for some hours yet. By then I'll have a plan."

  "While you're thinking, you can help me make a splint and set his leg," Violet said.

  * * * * *

  Most mines worked around the clock to take out as much ore as possible in the shortest amount of time. As long as the men were underground, it didn't make any difference if it was night or day. Harlan and Chapman worked only one shift because they couldn't trust anybody else with their secret.

  That was the bit of luck Jeff counted on to enable them to escape.

  The wait seemed interminable, but finally Jeff heard sounds of someone approaching through the tunnel. Soon he could hear voices. Chapman and Harlan.

  "I don't like all this killing," Harlan was saying. "Somebody's bound to find out. What good is all this money going to do us if we hang?"

  "No one's going to find out," Chapman said. "No one even knows they're missing. Even if they did, they wouldn't know where to look."

  "But the cripple is a Randolph," Harlan said. "Even if he's dead, his family won't give up until they find out what happened to him. They'll keep after us until they find him."

  "If they ever do figure out we had anything to do with it -- which I don't think they ever will -- we'll have sold the mine and be in Europe with enough money to live like kings for the rest of our lives."

  "I still wish we'd taken the offer we got six months ago."

  "That was peanuts. Everybody knew the mine was played out."

  "You should have listened to your partner, Chapman," Jeff said stepping out of a dark recess. "He's got more sense than you do."

  Chapman whirled, but before he could left a hand, Jeff hit him a blow that sent him staggering back against the tunnel wall. But Chapman was a strong man. He came charging back at Jeff, his powerful forearms ready to drive massive fists into Jeff's face. Jeff feinted then hit Chapman in the windpipe. While the big man gasped for breath, Jeff pounded him in the body until he staggered to his knees. One last blow to the jaw knocked him out.

  Jeff looked up, ready to ward off an attack from Harlan. No attack came. Using Violet's splint, the clerk had come up behind Harlan and put a bar across his windpipe. A slight increase in pressure would choke him to death.

  "I think we ought to dump them down the shaft," the clerk said after they had tied Chapman up and dumped him inside the ore car.

  "How are we going to get to the surface?" Violet asked.

  "I bet that backstabbing Tom Blake is at the whim," the clerk added.

  "Harlan is going to help us," Jeff said. "He's going to convince Blake to help me out of the bucket."

  "He won't if he knows it's you," the clerk said.

  "Then we have to make sure he doesn't."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to leave you here with Chapman."

  "Good. If you're not back inside
an hour, I'll dump him down the shaft."

  "Be my guest," Jeff said. He turned to Harlan. "You said you didn't like all this killing. Here's your chance to prove it. Do what I ask, and I'll see you don't hang."

  "Can you do that?"

  "He's a Randolph," the clerk said. "They can do anything."

  Jeff took Violet down one of the side tunnels. "I don't trust Harlan. He might not have wanted to murder anyone, but he didn't dislike it enough to stop Chapman. I'm going to put a long pole in the bucket. The minute we reach the surface, I want you to place it across the opening."

  "I've never done anything like that."

  "Just make sure it's through the bucket handle and rests on each side of the shaft. That way, if Blake decides to sacrifice Harlan in order to kill us, the bucket won't fall down the shaft."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Get out of the bucket and stop Blake before he can do anything else. You understand?"

  Violet nodded.

  "Keep down until the last minute. I don't want him to see anybody but Harlan. The minute you get that pole across the shaft, get out of the bucket. I'll help if I can, but I've got to get to Blake first. Now let's go."

  When they reached the ore bucket, Jeff kept Harlan away from the bell used to signal the lift operator. He put a long pole in the bucket. Then he helped Violet in followed by Harlan. Taking the bell, he climbed into the bucket. He rang the bell once, loud and clear, then threw it down the tunnel as far as he could. It landed somewhere distant with a dull thud.

  "That's so you can't send him a different signal," Jeff explained.

  The ride to the surface was slow. The whim must be hand driven. "Get down," Jeff told Violet when they were within twenty feet of the surface. "Remember what I told you."

  Jeff pushed Harlan forward and crouched down behind him. He was taller than Harlan, but he hoped for the moment's advantage he needed. "Stand real still," he told Harlan. "When the bucket stops, tell the operator you got hurt, that you need help getting out of the bucket."