Skeleton Lode

by Ralph Compton

  Dallas helped Kelly to mount, and they moved slowly out.

  “If that other bunch is watching for us,” said Kelly, “they won’t have any problem following.”

  “I doubt they’ll be looking for us,” Arlo said, “because we’ve never arrived this late before. Anyway, before we’re done, I expect we’ll be tangling with them over the gold. Finding the gold is one thing, holding it will be another.”

  “That’s a blade that might cut two ways,” said Dallas. “We could find it first and still end up in a gunfight over it.”

  “I know Uncle Henry wanted us to have the mine,” Kelsey said, “but I can’t believe he’d want any one of us dead because of it.”

  “He wouldn’t,” said Arlo, “and I believe he left us an ace in the hole that we probably won’t recognize until the showdown comes. Remember also, Paiute’s still around here somewhere.”

  “He may not be such an ace in the hole,” Dallas said. “One look at that skull at sundown, and he lit out like his shirttail was afire.”

  “I’ve been thinkin’ about that,” said Arlo, “and I reckon he was supposed to leave us be. That was as good a time and as good an excuse as any.”

  “Even if he never does anything more,” Kelly said, “he got us away from Gary Davis, and I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”

  “What Arlo just said fits what Uncle Henry used to tell us,” Kelsey said. “Do you remember, Kelly, when we begged him to bring us to the West? He said the frontier is hard on men, and harder on women. He said if we were ever to come out here, we’d have to prove ourselves worthy, or the land and its people would never accept us.”

  “I remember.” said Kelly. “The gold was just a means of getting us here. Actually Uncle Henry wanted to see if we could survive being manhandled by hostile Indians, shot, dunked in freezing water, hung over on moonshine whiskey, and sleeping on solid rock or hard ground next to a pair of gun-slinging Arizona cowboys who aren’t quite sure what the difference is between girls and boys.”

  Arlo and Dallas howled, slapping their thighs with their hats, until their horses threatened to bolt.

  “If all this has been Uncle Henry’s idea of a test—an education for us—then I don’t regret it in the least,” said Kelsey, “even if there is no gold.”

  “I don’t regret it either,” Kelly said, “but I’d have to think about it a while, before I’d start over and do it all again.”

  As they had done before, they picketed the horses and mules a considerable distance north of the hidden passage into the mountain. But as they drew near their entrance, they could see fresh depressions in the soft earth.

  “Six sets of boots,” said Dallas. “I reckon the showdown’s gettin’ almighty close. Do we go in?”

  “We do,” Arlo said, “but we don’t light the lanterns. Not yet. We’ll just have to take it slow in the dark. Once these hombres discover we’re on their trail, they could cut down on us with lead. I’d like to find out what they’re up to without them knowing we’re here. Up to now there’s been just five of them. Now there are tracks of six. Come on, let’s tune up the fiddle and start the dance.”

  Once they reached the river they were able to see distant twin dots of bobbing light ahead of them. There was shouting, but it was distorted by the echo, and they couldn’t understand the words.

  “My God,” whispered Kelsey, “one of them sounds just like Gary Davis. Don’t you think so, Kelly?”

  “It does sound like him,” Kelly admitted, “but I’ve never heard him screech like that. He sounds kind of wild.”

  “Let’s ease in closer,” said Arlo. “He’s really raisin’ hell about somethin’, and I’d like to know what.”

  While Cass Bowdre and his companions could hear Davis well enough, his raving made absolutely no sense to them.

  “He’s lookin’ for some hombre named Jed Logan,” Sandoval said, “and that ain’t the gent that found the mine.”

  “We’ll just foller him and see where he goes,” said Bowdre. “He’s sure as hell headed somewhere.”

  Davis slipped and fell, and they could hear him cursing the rocks, the darkness, the river, and the very mountain. The four young people were soon near enough to understand his words.

  “Jed Logan,” Davis shouted, “I’m comin’ after you. I killed you once, and by God, I’ll keep on killin’ you till you stay dead!”

  “Dear God,” Kelly whispered, “he’s lost his mind. Daddy’s been dead more than two years.”

  Suddenly there was the bark of a Colt and the hum of flattened lead as it ricocheted off stone.

  “Get down!” Arlo hissed.

  There were no more shots, but Davis continued his mad ranting. Finally, as he neared the falls, his shouting diminished. Then there was another voice, nearer.

  “By God,” shouted Zondo Carp, “he’s in the water, headin’ for the falls!”

  “Cover them damn lanterns with your hats,” Bowdre said, “and let’s foller him. That’s got to be where the gold is.”

  “Damn,” Dallas said, “they’ve found it. Now what’ll we do?”

  “Go in right behind them,” said Arlo. “What else can we do?”

  “Ninguno,” said a voice from the darkness behind them. “Malo medicina.”

  “Paiute!” gasped Dallas, amazed that the old Indian had suddenly appeared and that he was speaking.

  “They’ve found the mine, Paiute!” Arlo explained. “We must follow!”

  “Ninguno,” said Paiute. “Come.”

  The four of them followed his silent shadow to the split in the rock—the narrow cleft that led up to the ledge—and to the treacherous trail beyond, where Kelly had fallen. Dallas raised a lantern globe.

  “Ninguno,” Paiute said. “Ninguno.”

  “Damn it, Paiute,” said Arlo, “let us light a lantern. We can’t get up there in the dark.”

  “Ninguno,” Paiute repeated. “Come.”

  “He must have a reason,” said Kelsey. “Let’s try it his way.”

  Paiute saw the need to reassure them. He took Kelsey’s left hand and placed it in Kelly’s right hand. He then took Kelly’s left hand in his own right hand, and started up the narrow cleft. Arlo and Dallas were left to follow as best they could. When they had reached the far end of the ledge that crossed the face of the drop-off, Paiute halted them.

  “Lamp,” said the old Indian. “Lamp muy bueno.”

  “Thank God he ain’t takin’ us down that trail in the dark,” Dallas said. “Another fall could finish Kelly, and maybe the rest of us.”

  Paiute led the way and Dallas followed. Behind Dallas came Kelly, Kelsey, and finally Arlo, with the second lantern. At the bottom of the precipitous path, Paiute stepped down into the water. The others followed him without mishap. As they progressed, the water became shallow, and at last they were out of it, on solid rock. Somewhere to their left they heard the muted roar of the falls. Paiute led them down a narrow corridor that seemed to parallel the river.

  “He’s taking us under the river!” said Kelsey.

  There was a constant dripping of water from somewhere overhead, and they heard the gurgle of a swift stream beneath their feet. They could also hear the muffled sound of gunfire, and as they drew nearer, they could see the faint glow of a lantern in the distance.

  “Ninguno, lamp,” said Paiute.

  Understanding his gesture, Dallas and Arlo extinguished the lanterns. In the inky darkness they could better see what was taking place ahead.

  “Davis,” Cass Bowdre shouted, “hold your fire. We’re your friends.”

  But Davis, despite his muddled mind, saw through Bowdre’s ploy and responded with more fire, the lead whanging off stone like angry hornets.

  “Davis, you damn fool, listen to me!” shouted Bowdre. “We’re claimin’ the gold that’s here, and if we have to kill you, we will.”

  There was more fire from Davis, but from somewhere beyond his position, another voice answered Bowdre.

  �
�You men shootin’ at Davis, listen to me. I’m Henry Logan, and this is my claim. I only used it as a means of getting Davis out here, within my reach. He murdered Jed, my brother, so this is between Davis and me. The rest of you back off.”

  “Dear God!” Kelsey cried out, “it’s Uncle Henry!”

  “It sure as hell is,” said Arlo, “and we can gun down those coyotes from here, if need be.”

  “Ninguno,” Paiute said. “Ninguno.”

  “Mister,” Bowdre shouted, “we don’t know that you’re Logan. Even if you are, you ain’t registered a claim, so unless you can hold it, then it ain’t yours.”

  “I didn’t register it,” Logan said, “because I didn’t want it. True, there’s gold here, but these passages under the river are a death trap. Every shovelful of ore taken out only brings the river that much closer. One day soon, the river will break through, and when it does, the gold will be buried beneath tons of earth and rock, and it will all be under thirty feet of water.”

  The sound of Henry Logan’s voice brought more reckless firing by Gary Davis and, on the heels of it, a fresh outburst.

  “Damn you, Jed Logan, where are you? I killed you once, and I aim to go on killin’ you till you stay dead!”

  “Logan, if that’s who you are,” Bowdre shouted, “we don’t believe you, and we ain’t backin’ off.”

  “Then I’ll make a deal with you that’ll prove it’s no bluff,” said Logan. “All of you get out of my way until I settle with Davis. If I’m still alive, I’ll walk away and you get the gold, with no argument from me. If Davis kills me, gun him down and you still get the gold.”

  “You’d better take that offer,” Arlo shouted, “there’s five of us behind you, family and friends of Henry Logan, and we’ll cut you down.”

  “Hold your fire,” answered Bowdre. “We’re takin’ Logan at his word, and we’ll back off.”

  “Arlo,” Henry Logan shouted, “all of you get out of here. This is my fight. I’ll see you when it’s done.”

  “We go,” Paiute responded.

  The old Indian drew them all back into the passage down which they had come, and from the darkness they watched Bowdre and his men take their lanterns and start back toward the falls.

  “Oh, God,” Kelly said, “we find Uncle Henry alive, and now we have to leave him in here with that crazy Gary Davis.”

  “Did your daddy and Hoss look anything alike?” Dallas asked.

  “Yes,” said Kelly, “especially as they got older. There was only a year’s difference in their ages.”

  “Maybe that’s the answer,” Arlo said, as they crossed the face of the drop-off for the last time. “At some time in the Superstitions, Gary Davis must have come face-to-face with Hoss Logan. Now his mind is playing tricks on him. He thinks Jed Logan’s haunting him.”

  “God, I hate this,” cried Kelsey. “Suppose that devil Gary Davis kills Uncle Henry?”

  “There’s always that chance,” Dallas said, “but I’m bettin’ all my pesos on our old pard, Hoss Logan.”

  Once they were well beyond the falls and on their way out, Paiute paused. Sounding dim and far away, there were five quick shots from a Colt, followed by the single booming blast of a shotgun. Then, but for the sound of the river, there was only deathly silence. Kelly clung to Dallas and Kelsey to Arlo.

  “We go,” said Paiute. “Señor Logan come.”

  Chapter 22

  Keeping to the stone wall of the passage beneath the river, Hoss Logan crept through the darkness, his shotgun cocked and ready. He was oblivious to everything except the pounding of his own heart in his ears. For two long years his hatred of Gary Davis had driven him, preparing him for this act of vengeance. But now that the time had come, his ultimate victory seemed empty, meaningless. He had subjected Davis to three days and nights of terror in the darkness of the Superstitions, and the man had literally gone mad, believing that the murdered Jed Logan was haunting him. Now there would be no reasoning with Davis. It was shoot or be shot, and Henry Logan wanted it finished.

  “Davis,” he shouted, “it’s you and me. I’m comin’ after you.”

  His challenge drew no fire, which surprised him. He had counted on Davis giving away his position. Now he must be more cautious, for while Davis might be insane, he was by no means careless. Logan’s advantage was that a shotgun could lay down a swath of death that a Colt couldn’t match, and in total darkness, aiming with a scattergun wasn’t crucial. But the range was. Given a target, Davis could fire effectively with a Colt from a much greater distance. Logan found a stone and threw it as far as he could, but it drew no response. The passage was muddy from the constant dripping of water, and Logan’s boot slipped. He didn’t try to recover his balance, but threw himself facedown. Davis fired five times, the lead ripping the air in a fanned-out pattern above Logan’s head. Steadying the shotgun, Logan fired once. He then rolled to the farthest side of the passage in case there should be return fire. But there was no sound except the constant dripping of water and the distant roar of the falls. For many long minutes, Henry Logan lay unmoving. Finally he got to his feet, keeping to the wall, and followed the passage until he reached the narrow upward path from which Kelly had fallen.

  When Arlo, Dallas, Kelly, and Kelsey stepped out into daylight, there was no sign of Cass Bowdre and his men.

  “I reckon we got nothin’ to fear from them now,” Dallas said. “I just wonder if Hoss is runnin’ a bluff about the mine.”

  “No,” Arlo replied. “There was water all through that passage, and dripping all around us. I believe the mine really is the death trap he said it was.”

  “I don’t care about the mine,” said Kelly. “Uncle Henry’s alive, and I just want him out of there.”

  “Him come,” Paiute said confidently.

  “Damn it, Paiute, why ain’t you ever talked before?” Dallas asked.

  “Habla bueno,” Paiute said with a straight face. “Mucho habla malo, like squaw.”

  The old Indian grinned uncertainly at Kelly and Kelsey, but they laughed along with Arlo and Dallas. It soon became a grand and glorious reunion when Hoss Logan stepped into the sunlight, still carrying the shotgun. He tossed the gun to Paiute and gathered Kelly and Kelsey close in a bear hug. Arlo and Dallas held back, allowing the girls time with their uncle. When Hoss at last turned to his friends, he threw one arm around Arlo and the other around Dallas.

  “Let’s go home, boys,” said Hoss. “Paiute and me will have to double with you on the horses, but it ain’t that far. We got plenty to talk about.”

  “There’s a big pot of boiled chicken left,” Kelly said. “They made enough to feed me for a month. We can heat that up and celebrate.”

  “That pot of chicken will be almost enough for Paiute,” Arlo joked, “but what about the rest of us?”

  Cass Bowdre and his companions returned to their hidden camp below the mountain’s rim. Sandoval, at their lookout point, reported the departure of Henry Logan, Paiute, and their four companions.

  “Six of ’em,” Sandoval said. “One of ’em is Logan’s Indian. It must of been him that caused us so much trouble.”

  “Now we can go back and look for the gold,” said Carp, “unless we’re goin’ to take it as gospel what that old varmint said about the river bustin’ through and floodin’ the mine.”

  “Well,” Bowdre said, “it ain’t so far, so first thing in the morning, we’ll be in there with our lanterns.”

  “That was mighty damn easy,” said Sandoval, “old Logan just walkin’ away. I wasn’t all that fond of Davis myself, but I can’t imagine a gent usin’ a gold claim to kill some no-account coyote he hates and then just walkin’ away from the gold. Hell. I ain’t believin’ there is any gold, until I see and touch it.”

  “Me neither,” Carp said. “That bunch is gone, and I’m ready to go back in mere right now. To hell with waitin’ for mornin’. Who’s with me?”

  They all were. Even Bowdre got the fever, so they filled their lanterns a
nd returned to me cavern. There they immediately found what was left of Gary Davis.

  “God,” said Three-Fingered Joe, “there oughta be a law against shotgunnin’ a man to pieces like this. Even a crazy coyote like Davis.”

  The farther they went, the more water dripped from above. When the passage suddenly widened, what they saw left them literally breathless. Above them, in the dim glow of their lanterns, thousands of tiny golden stars winked invitingly at them.

  “Great God!” said Bowdre in awe. “The whole damn roof of this place is shot plumb full of gold!”

  “And leaks,” Sandoval said. “I believe old Logan was telling the truth. Do we walk out, or go for the gold and risk bein’ drowned like rats?”