by John Hansen
“Well, Deputy,” began the bearded man with some newfound courage, “if you been to the claim office, then you oughta know that the laws in this here mining district says that any claim abandoned for more ‘an three days is fair game to whatever feller that comes on it.”
“So that’s what ya’ll are sayin’,” replied Josh in a disbelieving tone of voice, “this claim was abandoned and you two just happened upon it.”
“That’s pretty much it,” said the bearded man. “We’d been pokin’ around further upstream but hadn’t found much.” He paused, as if he wanted to be careful of what he said next. “And well, sir, we’d been by this claim a number of times and we’d seen some guy a-workin’ it by himself. And then one day there was no horse here and nobody around here but the camp was still here. We kinda took note ah that, and by and by we says to ourselves it looks like this claim has been abandoned.”
“And so ya’ll rushed into town to take advantage of the fact that a dead man can’t work his claim. Is that about it?” said Josh somewhat sarcastically.
The bearded man’s demeanor changed. Josh could see anger in his eyes; his partner, on the other hand, seemed fearful. “You know, Deputy,” said the bearded man in a surly voice, “I don’t know that I care for your tone.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” replied Josh calmly. “But ya know, Leroy, I don’t much care for this little game of cat-and-mouse ya’ll been playin’.”
The bearded man laughed derisively. “I ain’t broke no laws and you got no proof that I have.”
Josh sensed that their conversation was about to go south. At present he didn’t have a good angle on both men as the mustachioed one stood slightly behind and to the side of Leroy. “Well, I don’t know if that’s exactly true,” said Josh as he took a couple of steps to the left. His movement instantly agitated Leroy.
“Ya know, Deputy,” said Leroy in a somewhat threatening manner, “it might be best if you just stayed right where you’re at. I ain’t the fool that you think I am.”
Josh shrugged. “All ridey then. Have it your way. It don’t make no never mind to me.” Josh paused. “I got something I wanna show you, though.”
“What’s that?” shot back Leroy.
“It’s in my pants pocket so don’t be gettin’ all fidgety when I go to my pocket.”
Leroy nodded in agreement. “Alright, let’s see whatcha got.”
And with that, Josh pulled Seth’s watch out of his pocket. He held it up by the narrow, intricately braided lanyard that Seth had made for it. There was an immediate look of mild shock on both men’s faces as they realized their privacy had been violated. But it was a situation where neither man wanted to protest very loudly. “Does this look familiar?” asked Josh coyly.
“You know it does,” said Leroy contemptuously. “You took it out of our tent. Just ‘cause you’re a lawman it don’t give you the right to go snoopin’ through people’s belongin’s.”
Hell, the tent probably belonged to Seth too, thought Josh, but he said aloud: “How’d you come by this watch?”
Leroy stammered a bit while he processed a response. “I bought it off a guy in Bear Creek.”
Josh was almost certain that Leroy was lying. “You remember what this guy looked like?”
Leroy’s response was immediate. “He was a big guy.”
Josh laughed. “That’s it, just a big guy. Ya’ll don’t remember anything else about him?”
“No,” said Leroy bluntly, “I don’t.”
It was clear to Josh that Leroy wasn’t about to admit to anything that was going to link him to Seth’s murder. The circumstances looked pretty suspicious, but would it hold up in court? He didn’t especially like the idea of goading Leroy, and probably his friend as well, into a gunfight to get justice for Seth, but maybe there was no other way. And then, almost as if it had been by some divine intervention, he saw just beyond the two men what might be the deciding proof that he needed. Standing upright and leaning slightly into a thicket of willows were two rifles; undoubtedly they were Leroy’s and his partner’s. One was a Sharps repeater and the other one—the one that had given away their location with its shiny brass receiver—was a .44-caliber Henry. A small patch of clouds had been obscuring the brightness of the sun when Josh first approached the men, but now they had dissipated and the sun was reflecting off of the Henry. Nodding towards the rifles, Josh said: “I suppose you just found those rifles over yonder there?”
“Them guns is ours,” said Leroy’s partner. “We brung’em from back home.”
There was a naïve sincerity that was apparent to Josh about the way the mustached man had quickly claimed ownership of the guns. Might be the first truthful thing that’s come outa these guys, he thought. “Nice rifles,” said Josh innocently. “You don’t see many of them Henrys around.”
“No sir, you don’t,” said Leroy. “Cost me a pretty penny.”
“I can imagine,” replied Josh. “I’ll bet them copper shells for it are pricey too. I can’t recollect the last time I ever saw any for sale at a mercantile or such.”
Leroy sensed something was amiss with the deputy being almost friendly-like, but he was like a wolf pup skittering around a hind quarter of a deer hanging in a tree that was being guarded by a well-disguised leg-hold trap. His instincts were telling him not to go there but he was already committed. And so Leroy said: “Yeah, whenever I find them copper shells I stock up on’em.”
And with that the jaws of the trap snapped shut. “Leroy,” said Josh, still friendly-like, “I got some things I wanna show ya’ll.” Leroy watched as Josh dug into his shirt pocket and pulled out a couple of objects. He held the first one up so Leroy and his partner could see. “This is my deputy marshal’s badge,” he said, pinning it on his shirt, “and this is a copper .44 Henry shell casing that I found where the man’s claim that you’re workin’ was ambushed.”
Leroy had a panicked look in his eyes; the quiet man began to back away from him.
“Stand easy there, pardner,” said Josh to the quiet man. “Ain’t neither one ya’ll going anywhere unless I say.”
There was a look of overwhelming desperation and regret on the quiet man’s face. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he said to Leroy in a venomous tone.
“Shut your mouth, you dumb sonovabitch. That shell casing don’t mean nuthin’,” shouted Leroy angrily at the quiet man. “Besides, there’s two of us and only one ah him.”
“Don’t ya’ll do anything stupid,” shouted Josh. But it was too late. The words had barely left his mouth when Leroy sent a bullet in his direction. Josh dived for cover behind some aspen trees. Leroy, on the other hand, jumped behind a ponderosa pine stump that had a wide base but narrowed some at about chest high where it had been whipsawed. The quiet man had run for the willows.
“It’ll go better for ya’ll if ya just give it up,” shouted Josh to Leroy.
“I don’t see that bein’ a good way to go,” replied Leroy. “Dancin’ at the end of a rope ain’t got no appeal to me at all.”
“Ya never know,” said Josh, “you might get a judge that’d just give ya jail time.”
“No thanks, Deputy. I heard about that judge they got down there in Boise. He don’t look favorably on my kind.”
“Well ya’ll’s future don’t look real good here ‘cause I aim to kill ya if I can.”
And with that Leroy popped up from behind the stump and fired two quick rounds at where he thought Josh was hiding. The bullets went slightly to the right of where Josh was. Josh had seen Leroy level his pistol over the top of the stump and fire quickly. If he tried that again he’d be a dead man. And then from behind the stump came Leroy’s voice. “Edgar, gimme a hand here. We got’em in a crossfire.” There was no response. “Edgar,” came the plea again. “Gimme a hand.” Silence, save for the creek and a gentle breeze blowing through the trees. “You yellow sonovabitch, when I catch up to you you’re gonna be sorry.”
There was silence for several min
utes. Josh knew that the quiet one, or Edgar, was undoubtedly working his way to the horses in the meadow. There was little he could do to prevent his escape unless he wanted to risk losing Leroy—and that wasn’t an acceptable option as it was pretty clear to him that Leroy had murdered Seth.
“Hey, Deputy,” shouted Leroy. “I gotta deal for ya.”
Josh hesitated to answer as he didn’t want to allow Leroy to get a better fix on his position, but then it came to him that he might be able to dig a little deeper and determine if the sheriff had any role in all of this. And so he said: “Oh yeah, what might that be?”
“We got a fair amount of gold stashed back at camp; it’s yours if you just walk away.”
“When my friend filed on this claim, he did it in both of our names.” Josh paused and purposely laughed loudly. “And so now, after you’ve killed my friend ya’ll want to give me something that shoulda been half mine anyway. You’re gonna hafta do better’n that, Leroy.”
“It’s a good amount ah gold, Deputy.” The desperation in Leroy’s voice was clear. “You might want to give it some thought. It’d set ya up in life right nice.”
“Naw, Leroy, I don’t think I wanna even waste my time ponderin’ that,” said Josh in a mocking tone. “The way I got it figured is Edgar probably grabbed that gold on his way outa camp, and if he didn’t, it’s mine anyway after I kill you. You gotta do better than that.”
Leroy went silent again. He was frantic to come up with some way out of his predicament. He suspected the deputy wanted to know what the sheriff’s involvement had been in all this, but he knew if he divulged that he would be a dead man; on the other hand it appeared he would be equally as dead if he didn’t. After several minutes, Leroy shouted, “Hey, Deputy, you still there?”
What an idiot, thought Josh. “Yeah, I’m here,” he shouted. “It ain’t like I’m gonna take a walk.”
“I just wanted to be sure that you can hear me good. I got information about the sheriff that I know you’d be interested in.”
“OK,” interrupted Josh, “what is it?”
“No, first you gotta promise me that I can ride outa here if I tell you what I know.”
“No, your freedom isn’t up to me,” replied Josh. “You tell it to a judge and I’m sure he’ll go easier on ya’ll.”
“I ain’t gonna risk that. Either I tell you and you let me go or no deal.”
Josh knew that his conscience would never allow him to let Seth’s killer go free. He, as well as others, already suspected the sheriff was corrupt, so what Leroy had to say was probably no revelation except that if he were to testify to it in court, it could put a noose around the sheriff’s neck. And so Josh shouted: “Tell it to the judge, Leroy, and take your chances. That’s the best I can do.”
There was no response from Leroy, and then like the proverbial mouse backed into the corner by the cat, he came from behind the stump running towards Josh, firing his pistol at where he assumed Josh to be in the aspen thicket. It was a desperate and foolhardy thing to do, thought Josh, as he took deliberate aim and shot Leroy dead before he had emptied his gun. Josh stood and walked slowly towards where Leroy lay. A tiny wisp of smoke rose from the barrel of his pistol. His legs twitched involuntarily a couple of times, as if the adrenalin that had driven them so furiously seconds earlier could not be stopped—even by death. Josh kicked Leroy’s pistol to the side. As he stood over Leroy and looked at his lifeless body, he took no pride in having killed him. He hated this whole sordid mess that he had gotten into, but sometimes a man had no good choice. Just like Leroy’s choice a moment earlier, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t, but judging by the wide-eyed look of surprise frozen on Leroy’s face, he’d truly thought that he’d made the best choice.
Moonshine Creek was in a deep canyon that ran due west to its origin at the base of a tall mountain peak that intercepted the sun early on in the evening. Josh had just finished burying Leroy in a shallow grave not far from where he died as the last of the sun’s outline sank behind the mountain peak. He’d made a simple cross out of two pieces of aspen and some rope he found at Leroy’s camp. In the army somebody always said words over their fallen comrades, but Leroy was no comrade and Josh reckoned he was damned lucky he hadn’t left him for the turkey vultures and coyotes; besides, it was better than Seth had gotten. Long shadows had fallen over Moonshine Creek. Edgar was long gone and so was any sign of the gold. He’d left behind a couple of their horses and Thunder, so either he was in a big hurry to leave or stupid. Josh gathered Thunder’s reins and swung up into the saddle. He paused for a moment and looked back on what he was certain had been Seth’s camp. He sighed; he couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if only Seth were alive. The very top of the tall peak at the head of the canyon was now bathed in an orange glow; it would be a long ride back to Lester’s.
Chapter Eleven
She never came right out and said it in so many words, but Lester could tell that Sarah was beside herself with worry about Josh; not that he wasn’t concerned as well, but throughout the day she had probably asked him no less than a half dozen times how far it was to where Josh was going. And each time he had patiently described the route that Josh had to travel. And so, now as they sat down to supper he indulged her one more time. “About the first five miles is on the wagon route, that’ll be the easy part.”
And then she interrupted: “Well, how long do you think it’ll take him to cover that much distance?”
“Well, that depends,” said Lester, “on how hard Josh wants to push his horse. But the way I look at it, them two fellars ain’t goin’ nowhere, so if it was me I’d take it easy on my horse. So I reckon the wagon-road part over to where you head up Moonshine Creek ought not to take but a coupla hours. Now when he starts up that Moonshine trail,” continued Lester in a more emphatic tone, “that’ll be a whole ‘nuther ball ah wax. It’s rougher’n a bear’s tongue, and it’s a good ways back in the mountains to where this claim that Josh’s wantin’ to get to is at.”
“So, that part might take quite a while,” interjected Sarah.
“I ‘spect so,” said Lester in a reassuring voice. And then he added: “The way I got it figured it’ll be right at twenty-two miles round trip for Josh. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he don’t even come back tonight.” And with that Lester helped himself to some boiled potatoes and then set them, still in the pot they’d been boiled in, near Sarah. “Better have some spuds,” he said. “You worked hard today.”
Sarah was hungry. She’d helped Lester operate his sluice box all day by carrying buckets of gravel and soil to be slowly poured into the sluice that was located in a shallow part of the creek where the current was still swift. Gold, being the heavier substance settled out and was caught in between the slats on the bottom of the sluice box. It was an ingenious process when it worked, but it did require gold and they’d found very little that day.
Sarah put some potatoes on her plate, and without encouragement from Lester she took a breast of fried blue grouse and passed the plate to him. For a moment there was near silence except for the occasional clinking of silverware and Rufus chomping his venison steak. And then, wanting to fill the awkward silence, Sarah said: “Kind of an off day for gold today, huh, Lester?”
Lester hesitated before answering. It was like he had been struck with a sadness that had momentarily incapacitated him, but then he said solemnly: “Been that way for quite a while now. I’m afraid this claim is kinda like me, it’s ‘bout played out.” And then he forced a laugh in a vain attempt to hide his sadness.
Sarah had been so consumed by her own problems that she had become oblivious to the reality of Lester’s situation. He was an old man and pretty much alone in the world except for Rufus and his mules. She knew that it would not be easy to put a convincing spin on countering these facts, and so she said: “You never know, Lester, you might get into some good paying dirt any day now. It might give you enough that you an’ Rufus cou
ld go somewhere where it’s warm all the time and just take life easy.”
Lester smiled. He could see that Sarah was purposely trying to cheer him up. He felt embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to be the object of pity, if even for only a brief moment, but he had no family or friends and so when the temptation to toss that feeler out in the presence of Sarah had presented itself, he succumbed to it. And now he regretted it and so he said with false optimism: “Yeah, I suppose you could be right. A fellar never knows, why the next bucketful that you run through your sluice could have nuggets in it as big as your thumbnail.”
“It could, Lester,” added Sarah, continuing the ruse, “it could. From what I hear, the occurrence of gold can be fickle.” And with that she paused, not wanting to tackle the inescapable reality confronting Lester of getting old and dying without dignity.
“Oh yeah, don’t ya know it,” replied Lester. “A fellar could get a big spring runoff and carry a bunch of new dirt and rock down the creek and you’re in business again. Just like a new chunk ah country.” He paused briefly, and then turning to the stove behind him he picked up the coffeepot. “Yes sir, just like new country,” he chortled in a voice that trailed off. And then he extended the coffeepot towards Sarah: “Coffee?”
Sarah extended her cup. “Thanks,” she said.
Lester appreciated what Sarah was trying to do for him. He’d been thinking about it all day, but he reckoned that he’d be proud to have a daughter like her even if she had been a whore. He’d only known a couple of women in his life that might have been marrying material, and one of those had took sick and died while the other had been killed by the Sioux over in Wyoming. After that he never seemed to cross paths with any decent women, and so now here he was an old man with no family. He could die tomorrow and no one other than Sarah and Josh would give a tinker’s dam.
They’d pretty much finished eating and were sipping coffee at the table when Lester said: “Got something I wanna show you.” And with that he reached into his shirt pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Sarah.
