Trek of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  As they moved through the lobby, Smoke was surprised to find a bleary-eyed Pearlie sitting in a large chair, his Winchester across his thighs, facing the front door.

  He and Sally looked at each other and then they moved over to stand next to Pearlie’s chair. “Pearlie, what are you doing here?” Smoke asked.

  Pearlie looked up and gave a half grin. “Cal and I wanted to make sure nobody disturbed you two. Like the sheriff said last night, there’s no tellin’ what that Pike feller might be up to.”

  “Did you sit there all night?” Sally asked.

  “No, ma’am,” he answered, getting to his feet. “Me an’ Cal split the night up. Each of us took four-hour shifts.”

  Smoke put his arm around Pearlie’s shoulder, touched by his concern for them. “Go on up and get Cal. It’s time to eat.”

  Pearlie’s face brightened immediately. “You don’t have to tell me that twice.”

  * * *

  After skirting the town of Pueblo, Pike and his men pushed their mounts as fast as they could toward Canyon City. He knew Smoke and whoever had been helping him would probably go to the sheriff in Pueblo and then come after them, but he didn’t know if they would push the chase all the way to Canyon City or not.

  Even so, he didn’t plan to underestimate Smoke Jensen ever again, so he made the journey as fast as they could.

  Blackie Johnson, Hank Snow, Zeke Thompson, and Sergeant Joe Rutledge didn’t ask any questions along the way. They all knew the law would soon be on their trails and they too wanted to put as much distance between them and Pueblo as they possibly could.

  Once they entered the city limits of Canyon City, they slowed their broncs and walked them down the main street, letting them blow a bit after being pushed so hard.

  Johnson eased his horse up next to Pike’s. “What’s the plan now, Boss?” he asked. “We got the money from Jensen, so I guess you plan to divide it up and we can all go our separate ways, huh?”

  Pike slowly turned to glare at Blackie. “You’re right, Blackie, we got the money, but we didn’t get Jensen, so the job ain’t done yet.”

  “Wait a minute, Bill,” Blackie protested. “We didn’t sign on to this just to kill Jensen. The idea was he was wanted and we went after him in order to get the reward money. Now, we got the money and as far as I’m concerned, the job is over.”

  “Listen to me, you son of a bitch!” Pike growled, his face flushed with anger. “That bastard Jensen killed Rufe an’ Johnny an’ Razor an’ Slim, and he most likely killed an’ cut up Sam and Billy too. Now, I don’t know about you, but I rode with them boys for a lotta years an’ I don’t intend to let Jensen go on home without his payin’ for what he did.”

  Johnson gave a short laugh. “Jesus, Bill, what the hell are you talking about? Jensen killed those boys ’cause we stole his wife and killed two of his hands. What the blazes did you expect him to do? Thank us?”

  Pike jerked his horse to a halt and turned in the saddle, pulling the edge of his coat back to uncover the butt of his pistol. “All that don’t matter a damn, Blackie. The fact is Jensen is gonna be made to pay for killing our friends. Now, if you’re too lily-livered to go along with that, you’re welcome to ride on off.” Pike paused and grinned nastily. “But I ain’t dividin’ up this money till that son of a bitch is in the ground.”

  Blackie took a deep breath, his hand itching to go for his gun, until Hank Snow moved up beside them, holding his hand up. “Hold on, boys,” he said, trying to be reasonable. He looked around at the people moving up and down the boardwalks and along the street. “Try to keep it down, all right?” he said. “We don’t want everybody in Canyon City to know our business, do we?”

  Both Pike and Blackie realized this wasn’t the time or the place for a confrontation, especially with the law back in Pueblo possibly on their trail.

  Hank inclined his head toward a clapboard building just down the street. “There’s a saloon just over there. What do you say to getting off these broncs an’ downing a little whiskey to ward the chill off our bones while we discuss it?”

  Pike and Blackie glared at each other for another moment, until Pike finally nodded and turned his horse up the street.

  * * *

  Once they were in the saloon and had downed several stiff drinks, the men finally persuaded Blackie to go along with them on a quest to go after Jensen.

  Blackie reluctantly agreed, with the proviso that they wouldn’t attempt to kill Mrs. Jensen. “After all,” he reasoned, “she didn’t do nothing but try to protect herself.”

  “I knew from the way you was hangin’ around her with your tongue hangin’ out, you was getting’ sweet on her,” Zeke said sourly.

  Blackie flushed crimson at the suggestion. “That ain’t so,” he said heatedly. “But she didn’t have nothing to do with killing your brothers nor any of our friends,” he argued.

  “She shot Rufe dead in the heart,” Pike said, his eyes narrow.

  Blackie stiffened. “Well, that’s my offer,” he said. “Take it or leave it.”

  Pike thought for a moment, and then he smiled and spread his hands. “All right. I don’t really care what happens to that bitch anyway. It’s Jensen an’ the men who helped him shoot up our friends I want to see planted.”

  “Now that that’s settled,” Hank Snow said, “what are we gonna do about killin’ Jensen? There’s only the five of us left, an’ I don’t relish goin’ up against him an’ his men with just five guns.”

  Pike grinned and looked around the saloon. “Oh, I think we can find some men up here who’ll be glad to ride with us for a share of the loot we took off Jensen. Hell,” he said, “it’s a lot easier than tryin’ to dig gold outta these mountains in the winter.”

  “I hope you’re not plannin’ on offering them a full share of our money, since they ain’t exactly been in on this from the start,” Sergeant Rutledge said.

  Zeke Thompson leaned forward and smiled evilly. “It don’t matter too much how much we promise them,” he said. “When it’s all over, who’s to say they’re gonna survive the trip anyway?”

  As the other men laughed at this suggestion of a double cross, Blackie tried to hide his displeasure. He’d done a lot of bad things in his young life, but he’d never gone against his partners. Zeke’s suggestion made him think about what might be planned for him once this was all over. He knew one thing—he was going to have to watch his own back in the future.

  “Just where are you plannin’ on staging this attack on Jensen?” Hank Snow asked. “On the trail on the way back to his ranch?”

  Pike thought for a moment. “Naw,” he said finally. “They’re gonna be on their guard till they get back home. I think it’d be better for us to take a few days off ’fore we head out after ’em. Let ’em get good an’ settled, thinking they’re all safe an’ sound back home, ’fore we take ’em out.”

  “You don’t mean for us to hang around here waiting, do you?” Blackie said. “That sheriff over in Pueblo is bound to get word up here to be on the lookout for us.”

  “No, you’re right for once, Blackie,” Pike said. “We’ll head on down toward Silver Cliff, get us some partners there. As I remember, it’s a mite smaller than Canyon City an’ it’s on the way toward Jensen’s ranch. It’ll be the perfect place to lay low for a while till we get ready to go after him an’ his men.”

  “Well, at least we got plenty of money to spend while we’re waitin’,” Hank Snow said, grinning. “And I’ll just bet there are some women in Silver Cliff who’ll be glad to help me get rid of some of it.”

  32

  After they’d finished eating and gotten their horses packed for the journey back to Big Rock, Smoke and the others stopped by Sheriff Ashby’s office.

  “We’re heading back home, Sheriff,” Smoke said. He handed the sheriff a piece of paper. “That’s where we live, and the name of our sheriff is Monte Carson. I’d appreciate it, if you hear anything about the outlaws, you send me a message care of the s
heriff.”

  “Will do, Mr. Jensen,” Ashby said. “And if any of the boys head over to Canyon City, I’ll send a note to the sheriff over there to also be on the lookout for anyone matching the gang’s descriptions. With any luck, they’ll be caught before you get back home.”

  Smoke shook his head. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Sheriff, but I do thank you for your trouble and for all the help you’ve been.”

  Ashby smiled. “It comes with the badge, Mr. Jensen.” He turned to Sally and stuck out his hand. When she took it, he said, “You held up real well under difficult circumstances, ma’am. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” she said, casting her eyes at Smoke. “I had a good teacher.”

  * * *

  As they made their way down south toward home, Smoke decided to take a trail straight through the mountains to avoid going through Canyon City. He didn’t want to risk running into the outlaws while he still had Sally with them. This way would take them a couple of days longer, but there was no way the outlaws would know which way they went, so it would be almost impossible for them to set up an ambush along the way.

  Even so, while they rode, Smoke took turns with the boys riding point ahead of the group, just in case there was trouble.

  * * *

  Sometime later, when they finally arrived in Big Rock, they were surprised to see that the town was almost deserted, the streets practically devoid of citizens.

  “That’s strange,” Smoke said. “I wonder where everyone is today.”

  “Smoke,” Sally said, “could we stop at the undertaker’s? I want to see where Sam and Will are buried.”

  “Certainly, dear,” Smoke said.

  They had the undertaker show them the graves of their two hired hands, buried while they were gone. They all stood around the still-fresh graves and Sally led them in a prayer for their departed friends.

  She then arranged with the undertaker to have fresh flowers kept on their graves in season, and she paid him to carve granite headstones for their resting places with their names and the date of their deaths on it.

  Afterwards, Smoke suggested they stop off at Monte Carson’s office to let him know Sally was all right and that the sheriff of Pueblo might be wiring him with news of the outlaws.

  They found Sheriff Carson in his usual spot, behind his desk with his feet up on the corner and a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.

  When they entered, he jumped to his feet and immediately gave Sally a hug. “Damn but it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said happily.

  Smoke smiled at the sheriff. He knew that Sally was everyone in town’s best friend and that the townspeople would be as relieved and as happy as Monte to see that she had survived her ordeal intact and unharmed.

  After he finished hugging Sally, Monte shook hands with Cal and Pearlie and Smoke, telling them all how glad he was to see them back.

  “I can’t hardly wait to hear the story of how you got Sally away from them desperados,” he said, looking at Smoke.

  “Well, we’ve been on the trail for several days now,” Smoke said. “Why don’t we go on over to Longmont’s and get some food under our belts and we’ll tell you all about it.”

  “Yeah,” Pearlie said, grinning. “I’m sure Louis would like to say hello too.”

  “Smoke,” Sally said, “I’m really not too hungry just now. Why don’t I go on over to the hotel and make arrangements for us to stay there while you and the sheriff visit Louis?”

  Before Smoke could reply, the sheriff asked, “Hotel? Why are you gonna stay there?”

  Sally looked at him, surprised at his question. “Why, don’t you remember, Monte? Our cabin was burned to the ground by the outlaws.”

  The sheriff blushed and stammered, “Well, Sally, first of all, Louis ain’t at his place right now.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Monte,” Smoke said. “Where is everyone? The town looks deserted.”

  The sheriff got an embarrassed look on his face. “Uh, most of ’em are off working on something right now.”

  When he saw by their expressions his explanation really didn’t answer Smoke’s question, he leaned over and finished off his cup of coffee in one long drink. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, hitching up his pants.

  “Let’s go on out to the Sugarloaf and then we’ll talk.”

  Smoke looked at Sally and shrugged. “All right, Monte,” he said, wondering why his friend was being so mysterious.

  “Hold on a minute,” Pearlie said. “I thought we were going to eat first.”

  Monte Carson glanced at him and gave him a wink where the others couldn’t see it. “Pearlie,” he said, “just this once, will you forget about your stomach for a while?”

  “All right, but if I starve to death before we find some grub, you can just plant me out on the Sugarloaf somewheres. No need to buy me a fancy headstone, just put a batch of Miss Sally’s bear sign in my casket an’ I’ll be happy.”

  * * *

  On the way out to the Sugarloaf, Monte Carson refused to answer any more questions from the group, telling them it would all be clear to them once they got to the ranch.

  As they rode up the final mile toward where their cabin used to be, Smoke saw dozens of buckboards and wagons and about thirty horses milling around their corral.

  When they turned the final bend before arriving at the cabin, they saw most of the townspeople they’d come to call their friends busily engaged in building them a new house. Men and boys swarmed around the place on ladders and up on the roof, putting the final touches to a large, well-appointed log cabin with two stories on it instead of the original one.

  The women of the town were busy cooking food and serving hot coffee and hot chocolate to the workers and fetching kegs of nails and spikes that were being driven into the walls.

  Three large wagons stood off to one side filled with furniture, drapes, and even three trunks of clothes.

  Sally put her hands to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Monte,” she gasped, “this is so wonderful!”

  Louis Longmont, his sleeves rolled up and minus his usual trademark fancy coat, wiped his hands off on a rag and walked over to meet them.

  “Howdy, folks,” he said cheerfully. “We’d hoped to be finished before you got back, but we’re awfully glad to see Sally is all right anyway.”

  Smoke jumped down off Joker and walked over to embrace his friend. “Louis, I can’t believe you all have done this.”

  “Why not, partner?” he asked. “After all you and Sally have done for the town, we figured it was time to pay you back a little bit.”

  “I’m overwhelmed,” Smoke said, blinking rapidly to hide the tears in his eyes.

  Louis spread his arms. “Well, come on in and let me show you around your new home.”

  As they walked forward, the townspeople all stopped their work and clapped and yelled their hellos, the women rushing over to see how Sally was and to make her promise to tell them the “whole” story later.

  Pearlie made straight for the table that was spread with fried chicken, steaks, rolls, corn, and just about every kind of pie he’d ever heard of. For Pearlie, sentimentality always came second to hunger.

  * * *

  By nightfall, all of the furniture and clothes were in the house and it was complete except for some minor things that Louis promised would be fixed within the week. Seeing how tired Smoke and Sally were from their long trip, everyone finally left for town, with promises to come back out to the house later in the week for a housewarming party.

  Once they were alone, Smoke and Sally walked around their new home, Smoke stopping to admire the brand-new handmade gun cabinet that the owner of the local gun shop had filled with new rifles, shotguns, and pistols to replace those Smoke had lost in the fire.

  He took Sally in his arms and smiled down at her. “It is good to be home, dear,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back
of her hand, “it is.” She took his hand and led him into the bedroom. She stood before the large double bed and handcrafted quilt that was covering it, thinking how comfortable it looked. “I think it’s about time we tried out that new bed the townsfolk gave us,” she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  She grinned and shook her head. “Not that tired,” she said, laughing. “I said try it out, not go to sleep.”

  33

  Bill Pike and his men spent almost two weeks hanging around Sliver Cliff, drinking, carousing, and getting to know some of the local toughs. Even with the inflated prices of a mining town, they couldn’t manage to make a small dent in the ten thousand dollars Smoke had left for them.

  Finally, Pike chose five men to make an offer to. Four accepted and one declined, not wanting to make the long journey to Big Rock no matter how much money Pike offered. It took him another day to find a fifth man to join their group, and they headed out to make their way south toward Big Rock and Smoke Jensen.

  On the way, Pike avoided even the smallest towns in order to keep any word of their approach from getting back to Jensen. The men grumbled about having to camp out in the frigid weather, but Pike reminded them they were being well paid to do just that.

  By the time they got to the outskirts of Big Rock, they were tired, half-frozen, and in need of more supplies, especially whiskey.

  Pike decided to send one of the new men into town, figuring Jensen and his men hadn’t seen his face, so it would be safe for him to go for what they needed.

  He sent a man named Cutter Williams, so named because of his penchant for slicing up anyone who disagreed with him with his twelve-inch Arkansas Toothpick knife. He had bright red, almost orange hair and a full beard, grown to cover a couple of jagged scars on his face from old knife fights.

  Williams rode into town with a list of needed supplies in his saddlebags, and with orders to go directly to the general store and buy the goods and leave town without talking to anyone.

  Williams intended to do just that, until his horse came abreast of Longmont’s Saloon, where the delicious aroma of frying steaks and liquor changed his mind. What the hell, he thought, nobody in this town knows me so it oughta be safe enough. Besides, he reasoned to himself, what Pike don’t know won’t hurt him.