“You do care for her, don’t you?” said Kelsey, her hand on his arm.
“More’n I ever cared for anything or anybody,” he said simply. “Come on, let’s get her down there by the river. Arlo ought to be there with those blankets soon.”
Carrying Kelly in his arms, Dallas slowly worked his way down the narrow crevice, and when he reached the bottom, he carefully stretched Kelly out on a large flat stone. She tried to speak, but her teeth chattered so that she couldn’t. Dallas knelt beside her, holding both her hands in his. Arlo returned with all eight of their blankets and quickly spread them out flat.
“Now let’s get her onto them,” said Arlo, “and wrap her tight.”
“Not until we get her out of those wet clothes,” Kelsey said. “All right, sister, it’s your turn to get all the attention, and the whiskey too.”
Kelly had her eyes open, gritting her teeth against their chattering as they stripped her of her sodden clothes. Even in the poor light they could see the angry bruises on her arms, legs, and shoulders. When they had her rolled in blankets to her chin, Dallas took his belt and buckled it around her to hold the blankets in place. He then lifted her in his arms, and they began the long walk to the passage that would lead them out of the cavern.
“I brought the horses on in,” Arlo said. “If that bunch is possumin’ around in the brush, I reckon they’ll find out what they’re wantin’ to know.”
“Thanks.” said Dallas. “Far as I’m concerned, Hoss Logan’s mine just dropped back to second place. Kelly comes first.”
“When you get tired,” Arlo said, “I’ll carry her.”
“I won’t get tired,” said Dallas, “but I will need you to hand her up to me after I’m mounted.”
When they eventually reached the cabin, Arlo took the swaddled form from Dallas while he dismounted. It wasn’t quite noon. Arlo immediately got a fire going, and Kelsey readied a kettle of water. Dallas had laid Kelly on one of the bunks and was kneeling beside her. Her eyes were closed, and despite the thick wrapping of blankets, her teeth still chattered. Dallas got to his feet and turned to Arlo anxiously.
“Where’s the whiskey?”
“It wasn’t in the saddlebags,” said Arlo. “Yours or mine. I reckon I’d better ride to Hays’s store in Tortilla Flat and get some more. She’s already having chills, and the fever’s bound to come later.”
“Make it as fast as you can,” Dallas said. “She seems just as cold as when I hauled her out of the water.”
Arlo rode out, and when the water began to boil, Kelsey took charge. She ripped an old sheet into large swatches and turned to Dallas.
“Unwrap her,” said Kelsey. “We’re going to bathe her from head to toe in this hot water, and I’m going to clean that nasty gash on the back of her head.”
Dallas and Kelsey applied the steaming compresses again and again, and slowly Kelly’s body began to take on some warmth. Her teeth stopped chattering, and Dallas again wrapped her from head to toe in the blankets. By then, her eyes were open and he grinned reassuringly at her.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like I was pitched off an ornery horse and he trampled me about six times,” groaned Kelly. “Where’s Arlo?”
“Gone to Tortilla Flat for some whiskey,” Dallas said. “You’ve already had chills, and fever will follow.”
“But I’m warm now,” said Kelly.
“You’re still going to get the whiskey,” said Kelsey. “You have a nasty gash on the back of your head, and we’ll have to use some of it to disinfect that, but you’re going drink the rest. It’s your turn to sweat and kick off the blankets.”
“Sorry I took a fall,” Kelly grimaced. “We were finally about to find Uncle Henry’s gold and I spoiled it.”
“Damn the gold,” said Dallas. “You took a mean spill, and you could have broken your neck or your back on those rocks.”
“But I didn’t,” Kelly said. “Tomorrow we’re going back in there, before that other bunch gets ahead of us. After all I’ve been through, you think I’m going to let a few bruises and a whack on the head stop me?”
But by the time Arlo returned with the whiskey, Kelly was feverish, tossing fitfully and muttering in her sleep. Dallas and Kelsey forced half a quart of whiskey down her, and the three of them sat up with her until she finally began to sweat. Three times she kicked her way free of the blankets, until Dallas again secured them by buckling his belt around her.
“The two of you get some sleep,” said Kelsey. “I’ll watch her.”
“That’s not fair,” Dallas said. “You need sleep too.”
“I’ll sleep tomorrow,” said Kelsey. “We won’t be going anywhere. Despite all that big talk, she’ll be so sore by morning she won’t be able to get up.”
Sandoval had been watching from the rim when Arlo, Dallas, and Kelsey rode away, Dallas carrying the blanket-wrapped Kelly.
“Looks like one of them Logan women was hurt,” he reported to the others. “I reckon they won’t be back today.”
“Then we’ll do some lookin’ on our own,” said Bowdre. “It’s about time we turned Davis loose and let him lead us to that gold, if he can.”
“No,” Davis shouted. Leaping to his feet, he again turned on Bowdre in a mad fury, shouting. “No, no, no!”
Sandoval again drew his revolver, prepared to buffalo Davis if he became violent. But Davis seemed to lose interest in Bowdre and lapsed into silence.
“You been coddlin’ that loco varmint for nothing,” Carp said. “Even if he knows where the gold is, he ain’t gonna lead us to it.”
“Leave him be,” said Bowdre. “Today we’ll search the river. Then if we still don’t find anything, we’ll take Davis with us, even if we have to hog-tie him.”
Bowdre led the others down the ragged cleft in the side of the mountain, leaving Gary Davis apparently lost in a confused world of his own.
“It ain’t far,” Bowdre said, “but it’s a hell of a place to find if you don’t know what you’re lookin’ for.”
Sandoval carried the lantern, lighting it once they entered the darkened passage that led to the underground river.
“Now that we’re in here,” said Three-Fingered Joe, “where do we start? That’s what’s botherin’ me. Wells and Holt have already been in here for a while, and it seems like they ain’t found nothing.”
“Maybe they ain’t,” Bowdre admitted, “but we know they’re in here for a reason. We ain’t found but five passages under these mountains that wasn’t dead ends, and the last one led to the drop-off above this river. That damn mine has to be in here somewhere along this river. I reckon Wells and Holt have come up with the same idea, and I think they’re right.”
Suddenly a stone shattered the lantern globe and the flame guttered out.
“Damn it,” said Bowdre, “which of you kicked that rock?”
“Not me,” Sandoval said.
The others were as quick to deny the foolish blunder that had left them completely in the dark.
“A day wasted,” said Bowdre. “Now one of us will have to ride somewhere and buy replacement globes for our lanterns. That is, if we can find our way out of here without any light.”
Slowly, carefully, they made their way back along the river, cursing the rocks on which they often slipped and fell. Behind them, in the darkness, Paiute chuckled silently to himself.
With the dawn, Kelly slept peacefully. The wound on the back of her head had been carefully cleansed with warm water, doused with whiskey, and then bandaged. When she awoke, she found Dallas sitting on a stool beside her bunk. He slid closer, taking her hands in his.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“All right,” she said, “but that may change when I try to move. Lord, I need to get up and run to the bushes.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Dallas. “There’s a bucket on the floor, and that’s as far as you’re going. Arlo and Kelsey’s outside. I’ll join them for a few minutes, unless you need h
elp. See if you’re able to move.”
“My God!” she cried, trying to rise. “I can’t get up! I feel like my back’s been broken, and my head weighs a ton. My arms and legs hurt like I’ve been beaten. Please, help me.”
“You’re stiff and sore from the fall,” said Dallas, “and your head hurts because you’re hungover from the whiskey.”
Dallas helped her out of the blankets, and she gasped at the angry purple bruises on her arms, hips, and legs.
“Lord, I’m a mess,” she said. “Who undressed me?”
“Kelsey and me,” said Dallas. “You didn’t kick off the blankets until Arlo got back with the whiskey. You’ve had some fever.”
“How long have I slept?”
“Almost around the clock,” Dallas said. “We poured some of the whiskey on that cut on the back of your head, and Kelsey made you drink most of what was left. You’ve been on one hell of a drunk.”
“Kelsey gets the last laugh, then.”
“She hasn’t been laughing,” said Dallas. “When I toted you out of that rocky backwater, Kelsey was scared half to death and so was I. You looked dead, and your pulse was really weak.”
“I’m sorry I frightened all of you—and ruined our search for the gold.”
“The hell with the gold!” Dallas exclaimed. “When we rode in yesterday, with me not knowin’ how bad you was hurt, I’d have swapped all the gold in Arizona Territory—in the whole damn world’—just to have you well.”
“Thank you,” she said sweetly. “Now would you wrap me up again? I don’t feel very well.”
Kelly was asleep again when Arlo and Kelsey returned.
“She needed to… to get up,” Dallas said, his face coloring. “I had to help her, and then help her back to bed.”
“That’s what we expected you to do,” said Kelsey, “so we gave you plenty of time. How is she feeling?”
“So sore she can’t move,” Dallas said, “and she has a hell of a hangover.”
“I know exactly how that feels,” said Kelsey. “Maybe she’ll sleep it off.”
“She’s feeling guilty for having spoiled our search for the gold,” Dallas said.
“No reason for that,” Arlo replied. “Any one of us could have fallen and gotten just as stove up as she is. Thank God she didn’t break any bones. The search can wait until she’s on her feet.”
“She needs chicken soup,” said Kelsey.
“I can ride to Phoenix,” Arlo said. “There’s plenty of chickens in Mex town, if nowhere else.”
For Arlo, it was a welcome diversion, something to do while Kelly recuperated. Besides, they needed other things—a new jug of whiskey, more coal oil. He rode into town with a list, and by the time he entered the general store, he had Sheriff Wheaton on his heels.
“I been needin’ to talk to somebody about what’s been goin’ on in and near the Superstitions,” said Wheaton.
He proceeded to tell Arlo of the killing of the five men associated with old Domingo Vasquez and of the disappearance of the horses.
“Old Vasquez is purely raisin’ hell,” Wheaton said. “He claims Yavapai and Sanchez, bein’ part of the bunch, killed the other five and then made off with the seven horses. I’ll grant they’re a pair of shiftless coyotes, but I don’t believe they’d murder five men so close to town just for the sake of seven horses. I’m stumped. Can you shed any light on this fool situation?”
“Maybe,” said Arlo.
He then told Wheaton of Bowdre and his men being on foot, of the stampeding of the mules, and of meeting the vengeful owners of the mules.
“There were five mules left in place of the horses,” Arlo said, “and I reckon the five men with Yavapai and Sanchez caught up to the mules. I’d say them Missouri mule drovers just killed the five hombres astraddle of their mules. That bunch from the Superstitions who actually took the horses only needed five, so two were turned loose with the mules. I’m bettin’ Yavapai and Sanchez grabbed the two extra horses and lit out for parts unknown.”
“It fits,” said Wheaton. “Yavapai and Sanchez figured old Vasquez would have their necks stretched if he could. I’m near willin’ to pay Vasquez for the horses myself. By God, Phoenix oughta celebrate. Yavapai and Sanchez have shucked out, not darin’ to come back, and five of them border cutthroats have been shot dead.”
Arlo quickly took advantage of Sheriff Wheaton’s elation. He gathered his purchases and left before the sheriff got around to questioning him about the continuing search for Hoss Logan’s gold.
This time, Three-Fingered Joe rode to Tortilla Flat, because it was nearer. When he returned, he had four extra globes and another gallon jug of coal oil for the lanterns. By then it was late afternoon, and a violent storm was building in the west. The sun had already set behind a bank of ominous gray clouds, and a rising wind out of the west had a chill bite to it. Bowdre had collected a pot of cold water, made pads from an old blanket, and after dipping them into the frigid water, he applied them to his still badly swollen ankle.
“If we’re goin’ back in that mountain tonight,” said Carp, “let’s get there ahead of the storm. In a while it’s gonna rain like a longhorn bull waterin’ a flat rock, and I ain’t aimin’ to walk no two miles in a downpour.”
“Me neither,” Os Ellerton threw in.
“I ain’t much in a mood to take a hike in one boot,” said Bowdre. “We got grub and a dry place to sleep. We’ll ride out the storm where we are. I need some time to doctor this ankle.”
Supper finished, they sat around the fire drinking coffee, listening to the thunder rumble and reverberate through the canyons. The very mountain seemed alive. Then, for no apparent reason, Gary Davis got up and walked to the split in the cavern that allowed access to the top of the mountain. Wind whipped in gusts of rain, fanning the fire’s flames into a crazy dance. Lightning flashed continuously, and when it struck somewhere near the top of the mountain, it had a profound effect on Davis. With a scarcely human cry, he bolted out into the storm.
“Davis,” Bowdre shouted, “don’t go out there!”
“The damn fool!” yelled Sandoval. “He’ll git fried to a cinder.”
“I hope he does,” Carp said sadistically. “I ain’t never seen a hombre hit by lightnin’. I’m goin’ out far enough to see him burn.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Ellerton. “That’s a sight I’d admire to see.”
“Hell, they’re as stupid as Davis,” said Sandoval when the pair had gone to the point where the passage opened to the mountaintop.
Carp and Ellerton went as far as they dared, pausing under an overhang. Lightning lit up the mountaintop like day, and they soon saw Davis. He stood with arms flung toward the violent heavens as though he welcomed—or dared—the lightning to strike. When it did, Davis screamed like a madman, but he didn’t move. Unhurt, he stood there like some demented apparition, squalling like a panther.
“God,” said Ellerton, “there ain’t nothin’ natural about this. I ain’t wantin’ to see no more.” Turning away, he returned to the protection of the cavern.
“Well?” Sandoval inquired.
“Lightnin’ struck all around him,” said Ellerton, “and by God, he ain’t been touched. I’m damn near ready to believe Davis is dead, and that somethin’—maybe the devil—has took over his body.”
Three-Fingered Joe laughed uneasily, but Sandoval and Bowdre didn’t. Even Zondo Carp, who had followed Ellerton back to camp, was awed.
“By God,” Carp said, “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it. He just stood there screechin’ like a beaten whelp. It was like he was answerin’ that storm, and it behaved just like it was hearin’ him.”
When Davis returned, drenched from the rain, he was eerily subdued. Without a word, he took his place at the fire. The rest of them stared at him in wonder, but he seemed not to notice or to care. They were all uneasy as the storm raged on, and they kept their hands near the butts of their revolvers. Suddenly, in the second passage that began behind th
e spring and continued to the foot of the mountain, there was a sound like a stone striking the wall.
“I hope the mountain ain’t comin’ down on our heads,” said Carp, drawing his Colt. “I’ll have a look.”
He stepped into the passage carrying a lighted lantern. But he saw and heard nothing. Just as he was turning back, there was a tinkle of glass, and the lantern’s flame guttered out. Carp made his way back in the dark.
“Damn you. Carp,” Bowdre said, “you’ve busted another lantern globe.”
“By God,” said Carp, “I ain’t done nothin’. I didn’t see or hear anything, and as I was comin’ back, the damn globe just broke.”
Skeleton Lode Page 31
