Venom of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  “I think you be right. Otherwise O’Leary would not have tried to shoot you as he done. This’ll give us an idea where to go next,” Muldoon said. “We’ll be for visitin’ some o’ the Irish Assembly now.”

  “What is the Irish Assembly?”

  “At one time ’twas a gang o’ Irish brigands who did nothin’ but give Ireland a bad name. They got into a gun battle with the Five Points gang, ’n ’tis said they broke up soon after that. Broke up they may be, but many o’ the same group o’ hoodlums are still hangin’ around ’n still gettin’ into the same mischief they was gettin’ into when they was a gang.”

  “Was O’Leary one of them?” Cal asked.

  “Aye, O’Leary was one of them. I know a lot more who once wore the Assembly’s shamrock, but since it is no more, a lot of ’em are tryin’ to straighten their lives up ’n make a go of it. ’Tis them we’ll be startin’ with, and I’ll be for askin’ them what they know about Mrs. Jensen being taken like she was. I got a feelin’ there’ll be a lot o’ folk who have heard about it, but are not for wantin’ to have anything to do with it. I know a few boys who just might be able to help us out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sally could tell by the lengthening shadows as well as the dimmer light in her room that it was getting late in the afternoon. The man she now knew as Kelly came into her room.

  “I brought you some supper,” Kelly said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be for untyin’ you now so you can eat, if you’ll give me yer promise not to try and escape.”

  “Mr. Kelly, how would I be able to do that? You appear to be a very strong man. There is no way I can overpower you. I can’t jump out of the window. I’m quite certain that I’m not on the ground floor.”

  Kelly chuckled. “No ma’am, I don’t reckon you can overpower me, and you ain’t on a ground floor.” He loosened the ties, and again, Sally began to rub her wrists.

  “When can I see Mr. Gallagher again?” she asked.

  “Why would you be wantin’ ter see him?”

  “You said that he is the one who gave you the instructions to capture me. I want to know why he did that. What is to be gained by holding me prisoner?”

  “Yes ma’am, I reckon I can see as ter how you might be some considerable plexed by it. I’d tell you if I knew, but I don’t have no idee a’ tall.”

  “Is Mr. Gallagher here right now?”

  “No, ma’am, he ain’t.”

  “You mean, you are the only one watching me?”

  “Aye.”

  “Let me go, Mr. Kelly.”

  Kelly shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Sure you can. You can simply tell Mr. Gallagher that I escaped.”

  “And how did you escape, would you be for tellin’ me that? Sure ’n you’ve already pointed out how that ain’t possible, bein’ as you can’t get by me.”

  “My husband is a very wealthy man. You could turn me over to the police, and I would see to it that you got quite a nice reward for it.”

  “’Tis tempted I am, Miz Jensen, but I’ll not be goin’ up against the likes o’ Ian Gallagher. You’ve no idea how evil he is.”

  “Evil to the degree that I have to fear harm coming to me while I am your prisoner?”

  “No, ma’am. I done asked him that, ’n he promised me you wouldn’t be hurt none whilst we are keepin’ you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kelly.” As Sally ate her supper, potato soup, she thought about Kelly. His concern for her seemed genuine, and she couldn’t help but think there may be some way to exploit that.

  “Is your husband a famous man, Mrs. Jensen?” he asked.

  “Famous? Oh, I don’t know that I would say that . . . though he has certainly acquired quite a reputation in Colorado, as well as a few other western states. Why do you ask?”

  “After we found out who you was, Brockway said that they was some books wrote about your husband. He said he read some of ’em while he was in prison.”

  “Oh, heavens, you must be talking about those dreadful dime novels written by Mr. Judson.”

  “Judson? No, I don’t think that was the name.”

  “His real name is Edward Judson, but he writes many of his novels as Ned Buntline.”

  “Yeah!” Kelly said, smiling broadly. “That’s it. Ned Buntline. Has he really wrote books about your husband?”

  “He has.”

  “Wow, havin’ them books wrote about him must’ve made your husband rich.”

  “My husband was not compensated in any way for the use of his name in any of Mr. Judson’s books. They are, at best, the unauthorized appropriation of his name, and at worst, outright piracy.”

  “That don’t seem fair,” Kelly said.

  Sally laughed.

  “What are you laughin’ at?”

  “I am laughing at the ludicrousness of a situation in which you are concerned about whether my husband has been fairly treated for the appropriation of his name, while at the same time holding me in this place against my will.”

  “Aye,” Kelly said sheepishly. “’Tis a foul deed I be doin’, ’n I take no pride in it.”

  Mule Gap

  The morning sun was streaming in through the window of her office, and Delilah was counting the take for the week, which had come to two hundred and fifty-five dollars, including the money paid in advance for the “visit” her girls had made the night before. She looked up to see Fancy standing at the door.

  “Fancy, dear, come in, come in,” Delilah invited. “How was your visit last night?”

  “It was . . . all right,” Fancy replied with a short hesitation before she said the words all right.

  “What is it? What is wrong?” Delilah asked, concern chasing the smile from her face. “Fancy, did any of those men hurt any of you?”

  “No, ma’am, it isn’t that. It’s just that there’s something going on out there, something to do with the children, that I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Children? What children?”

  “There are a bunch of children out there.”

  “Good gracious. Are you telling me those men allowed children to be present while . . . uh, while you were . . . ?”

  “No, ma’am, nothing like that. They are staying in a separate cabin, all by themselves. They said that the children’s parents have sent them out there so they can spend some time on the creek . . . but if they were doing that, wouldn’t they be running around outside, playing and such? I kept glancing through the window, and except for the two young girls I saw at the privy, the children never once left their cabin. And from the expression on the two girls’ faces, it sure didn’t seem like they were having fun. I just feel like something’s not quite right there.”

  “Two little girls? How many children are there? Oh, wait. You wouldn’t know, would you?”

  “Yes ma’am, I do know. One of the men told me there are six children out there.”

  “Six, you say?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Of course I can’t vouch for that myself. Like I said, I only seen the two little girls. And I don’t know if the remaining children are boys or girls. When I started asking about them, Keefer didn’t want to talk about them anymore, and I sort of got the idea that he was upset with Sanders for telling me about them in the first place.”

  “How very odd,” Delilah said.

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s what I thought, too. Do you think, maybe, it might be the children who have been kidnapped?”

  “I don’t know. I am aware of only five kidnapped children, but there could be more, I suppose.”

  “I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing by coming in here to tell you this. I mean, if it really is just kids there on a vacation, I surely wouldn’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  “No, don’t worry about it,” Delilah said with a reassuring smile. “You did the right thing.”

  The worried expression on Fancy’s face was replaced by a wide smile. “Good, I was hoping I was.”
r />   * * *

  Delilah Dupree stepped into Marshal Bodine’s office a few minutes later. The man called The Professor was sitting at his desk, reading The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy.

  “That’s a very good book,” Delilah said.

  Putting a bookmark to keep his page, Bodine set the book down. “Really? And how would you know? Are you just saying that as a matter of conversation, Miss Dupree? Or do you actually have any idea what this book is about?”

  “No, I’m not just saying that, and yes, I have read the book. It’s about a man facing his own death. But then, from what I have heard about you, facing death is something you do frequently.”

  “It is part of my chosen profession,” Bodine replied.

  “You mean your secondary profession . . . after you left teaching.”

  “What is it, Miss Dupree? What brings you here?”

  “You are aware, are you not, Marshal, that there have been several children kidnapped?”

  “Yes, of course I’m aware of that. Who, around here, isn’t aware of it?”

  “Have you been able to do anything about it?”

  “I’m . . . working on a few leads,” Bodine replied. “Why do the kidnappings concern you? Do you know any of the children involved?”

  “No, but three of my girls spent last night in a house on French Creek. This morning one of my young ladies reported that there are several children in a cabin adjacent to the house where my young ladies were taken. When she asked about them, she was told their parents knew they were there, and had paid for their children to be there as a vacation on the lake.”

  “Do you have any reason to doubt that, Miss Dupree?” Bodine asked.

  “Are you asking me if I doubt the story told me by Jill? No, I don’t doubt it for a moment.”

  “Jill?”

  “Fancy Bliss is her working name. Her real name is Jill Peterson. And no I have no reason to doubt her story.”

  “What I was asking is do you have any reason to doubt the story that was told to Miss”—Bodine paused for a long moment before he said the name—“Peterson.”

  “That story was told to her by Fred Keefer, and yes, I very much doubt it. I know Mr. Keefer, and he is not a very nice man. It would not surprise me one bit if he was involved in the kidnapping.”

  “That’s quite an accusation you are making, Miss Dupree. And about someone you know, too. How well do you know him?”

  “Keefer is a frequent guest at my house, and I have had many opportunities to observe him. He is a meanspirited man, and he is no gentleman.”

  Bodine smiled. “Why, Miss Dupree. I thought everyone who came to your establishment was a gentleman. That is how you advertise yourself, isn’t it?”

  “Surely, Marshal, as a professor, you know the subtleties of advertising. If I suggest that only gentlemen are welcome at my house, then those who do come are more likely to act as gentlemen.”

  “You have a good point,” Bodine said.

  “What about Keefer?”

  “What about him?”

  “Well, aren’t you going to arrest him?”

  “How can I arrest him? I have no evidence that he has committed any sort of crime.”

  “But I told you what Fancy told me.”

  “Miss Dupree, why don’t you just continue to run your house, which you obviously do very well, since I’ve never had any trouble with you, and leave the law enforcement up to me?”

  “Do you mean to tell me that you aren’t even going to look into it?” Delilah asked.

  “Of course I’m going to look into it. I intend to follow every lead, but I don’t intend to engage in precipitous action that would not only set my investigation back, it could also result in a lawsuit for unlawful arrest.”

  “But—”

  “Good day, Miss Dupree,” Bodine said. By way of dismissal he picked up his book and reopened it to the place of the marker.

  Leaving the marshal’s office, Delilah felt a sense of frustration. She had not gotten the reaction from the marshal that she had expected. How could he turn his back on information that had the potential to lead to the rescue of the kidnapped children?

  Not content with being so summarily dismissed, she decided to go over the marshal’s head and seek out Warren Kennedy. He was the mayor, which meant he had authority over the marshal. Delilah smiled. She should have gone to him in the first place. After all, she and the mayor had a rather special relationship.

  As she walked toward the bank, she encountered two women coming toward her. When the two women recognized her, a sour expression crossed their faces.

  “Come, Matilda,” one of them said. “Let’s cross the street so we don’t have to share the walk with that woman.”

  “Hello, ladies. What a beautiful day it is, don’t you think?” Delilah called out to them.

  “Humph,” one of them uttered in disgust. Stepping into the bank, Delilah got the same reaction. A woman put her hands on her husband’s arm and led him away as if she were frightened that he might succumb to Delilah’s sex appeal, right there in the bank.

  “Yes, Miss Dupree?” the bank teller asked as she approached the teller’s cage.

  “I would like to deposit last night’s receipts.”

  “Very well,” the teller said, taking the proffered bills from her.

  “And I would like to speak to Mr. Kennedy,” Delilah said.

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

  “Why isn’t it possible?”

  “Because Mr. Kennedy is busy right now.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll wait until he isn’t busy.”

  “Do you mean . . . in the bank?” the teller asked, aghast.

  “Of course in the bank. Where else would I wait to see the president of the bank? In the stable?”

  “Very well. I’ll see if he has time to visit with you,” the teller said in a self-righteous huff.

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  “I thought I told you never to come here,” Kennedy said a moment later when Delilah was let into his office. “I thought you understood the whole idea of my being a silent partner is keeping secret any relation between us.”

  Delilah smiled. “Now, Warren, really. Mule Gap is a small town. Do you think there is anyone who doesn’t know of our . . . relationship?”

  “Still, it’s nothing I want to flaunt. Now, what is it? What do you need?”

  “I want to talk to you about the children who have been kidnapped,” Delilah said.

  “Kidnapped children? Why, what does that have to do with me? Or you, for that matter?”

  “I think I know where they are. In a cabin on French Creek.”

  “What?” Kennedy replied in surprise. “Now, how on earth would you know that?”

  “A few of my girls went out there yesterday and they saw them.”

  Kennedy drummed his fingers on his desk for a moment as he considered what Delilah had just said. “Have you told this to anybody?”

  “Yes, I told Marshal Bodine.”

  “You haven’t said anything to Mrs. Condon?”

  “Mrs. Condon? No. Who is she, and why should I say anything to her?”

  “She is in town now, staying at the hotel. And her son is one of the kidnap victims.”

  “That would be the sixth child,” Delilah said.

  “What?”

  “I was aware of only five, but there are six children out there. Don’t you see, Warren? There are six children who are kidnapped, and there are six children out there in a cabin on the lake. This isn’t a mere coincidence. I’m convinced the children out there are the same ones that have been captured.”

  “Yes, you may be right. The evidence is too strong to be a mere coincidence. What did Marshal Bodine say when you told him?”

  “He said he would look into it, but really, Warren, he didn’t seem all that interested. He said something about being concerned over a possible lawsuit.”

  Kennedy smiled. “It’s
good to see that he’s looking out for the town. I wouldn’t want us to be facing a lawsuit. If there is anything to this, I’m sure he will get to the bottom of it. Why don’t you just let him do his job?”

  “All right,” Delilah said. “I’ll leave it up to him. It’s just that I thought that, as you are the mayor, you might like to know.”

  “You were right to come to me, Delilah. Yes, I do want to know, and I will follow up on this with The Professor.” He put his hand on her cheek. “And what I said earlier about you not coming here? I’m sorry if I sounded harsh. I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. You’re the mayor of this town. You have an image to maintain. And believe me, I don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that position. It wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

  “I’m glad that you understand. Let me walk you to the door. That is a wise decision, Miss Dupree,” Kennedy said rather loudly as he and Delilah left his office and walked through the main lobby of the bank. “Transferring your funds into the savings account will assure that the money is working for you by earning interest.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Delilah replied, going along with the game.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  When Delilah approached the front desk of the Del Rey Hotel a few minutes later, the clerk frowned when he saw her.

  “Miss Dupree, you know that the hotel owners have banned you from doing any business in here.”

  “I am not here to do any business,” Delilah replied.

  “That may be so, but you aren’t welcome in the hotel for any reason, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m sure you understand.”

  “No, Mr. Hodge, I don’t understand. I told you I’m not here to conduct any business. I’m here to see one of the hotel residents.”

  Hodge shook his head. “I don’t care why you are here. You’re going to have to leave, now.”

  “If you force me to leave this hotel before I am able to visit with the person I’m looking for, then I will go directly to the Mule Gap Ledger and give Mr. Blanton a list of names of everyone who has been a guest at the House of Pleasure. Now that I think of it, Mr. Hodge, your name and the names of both sanctimonious owners of this hotel will be on that list.”