Venom of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

“There are four men there,” Pearlie said as he took his first bite. “Mrs. Coy—”

  “Sandra.”

  Pearlie gave a brief nod. “Sandra, this is a mighty fine pie.”

  “Four? There is just Smoke against four men?” Sara Sue said.

  “The odds are a bit uneven, I know. I mean, there just being four of them against Smoke. But they have nobody but themselves to thank for being put into such a position.”

  Sandra laughed. “Are you saying that the four men are in more danger than Mr. Jensen?”

  “Yes,” Pearlie replied without further explanation. “Do you think I could have another cup of coffee?”

  Along French Creek

  Smoke draped the bodies of Plappert and Slago over their horses, gave both horses a slap on the rump, and started them back at a trot. He knew they would return to the livery. It would be quite a shock to Evans, but he would, no doubt, get them back to the marshal to be taken care of.

  Smoke had a pretty good idea where the kids were being kept. On a previous trip to Mule Gap, he had seen the deserted house and cabin and had examined them out of curiosity.

  * * *

  “Did you hear shootin’?” Keefer asked.

  “I can’t hardly hear nothin’, loud as that damn creek is.”

  “I thought I heard gunfire, but I guess not.”

  “Hey, how come, do you think, that there ain’t none of the other kids’ parents offered to give us any money yet?” Sanders asked.

  “That ain’t our problem,” Keefer said. “Right now our only job is to collect the money for the boy.”

  “We goin’ to let the boy go?”

  “We’re goin’ to do exactly what the chief tells us to do.” Keefer said as they rounded the bend. Then he saw him. “Son of a bitch! It’s Jensen!”

  Smoke had heard the two men talking, so he wasn’t as surprised to see them as they were to see him. “Where are the kids?” he called out.

  The answer to Smoke’s query was gunfire as both kidnappers drew their guns and began shooting.

  Smoke had shouted the question with no real expectation of any kind of response other than what he had gotten. His own gun was in his hand as quickly as Keefer’s and Sanders’s were in theirs. However, Smoke wasn’t riding Seven. Seven had been a good and stable partner in any gunfight, but the rental horse was anything but. He reared up and twisted around, which had the positive effect of making Smoke a more difficult target. The negative effect was making it hard for Smoke to be effective in his own shooting.

  For a few seconds, the valley echoed and reechoed with gunfire, then Smoke dismounted and was able, in but two more shots, to knock both Keefer and Sanders from their saddles. Their horses galloped away with empty saddles. Smoke’s rental horse would have done the same thing if he hadn’t been holding so securely on to the reins.

  With his horse calmed down and his gun in hand, Smoke advanced cautiously to examine the two men he had just engaged. The man he didn’t recognize was already dead, but Keefer was still breathing in labored gasps.

  “Where are the kids?” Smoke asked.

  “You go to hell,” Keefer said.

  “What a fine thing to say as you’re dying,” Smoke replied, but Keefer didn’t hear him. He had already drawn his last breath.

  Smoke saw a piece of paper sticking out of Keefer’s pocket, and removing it, saw that it was the note Sara Sue had demanded. “All right. We know the kids are all alive and well.” Having spoken the words aloud, however, he felt foolish for talking to himself. It had never seemed as if he had been talking to himself when he carried on such conversations with Seven. Then they were conversations, not soliloquies. Seven, invariably, had responded to Smoke’s words by whickers, whinnies, or understanding shakes of his head.

  Although he didn’t like to leave the two men where they’d fallen, he didn’t really have much choice in the matter as both their horses had run off. So, leaving the two men, Smoke remounted and continued to follow the creek road. He wasn’t looking for the cabin—he knew where it was—he was merely advancing toward it.

  He heard the sound of voices ahead and pulled the horse to a halt in order to listen more intently. It sounded like kids’ voices. Were they being brought out by their kidnappers? No, that didn’t seem likely. The voices weren’t coming from the road, but from below the bank on the creek itself.

  Smoke headed the rental horse into a growth of trees, dismounted, then tied him there. Pulling his pistol, he moved back down closer to the creek, stood behind a tree, and waited. If the kids were being escorted against their will, he intended to take care of it.

  “How much farther, Lorena?” That was definitely a very young voice.

  “I don’t think it’s too much farther,” a girl’s voice said.

  “Quit talking, Wee. We don’t want anyone to hear us.” That was definitely Thad’s voice.

  Smoke saw them then, six young people with Thad in the lead. There were no adults with them. They had to have had escaped.

  “The only one hearing you is me, Thad,” Smoke said, stepping out into the open.

  “Thad!” Lorena said, her voice elevated by fright.

  “It’s all right, Lorena. That’s my friend, Mr. Jensen!” Thad said happily.

  Thad started running toward Smoke, and the others joined him. Without embarrassment, Thad embraced Smoke, then he introduced the others. “Mr. Jensen, how is my pa?”

  “He’s at home with bandages wrapped around him,” Smoke said. “But Doctor Urban says he’s going to be just fine. Come on up onto the road. It’ll be easier walking up here. I’ll go back to town with you.”

  “Where’s Seven?” Thad asked, seeing the rental horse.

  “Seven was killed, Thad.”

  “The kidnappers did it?”

  “I don’t think Seven’s killers had anything to do with the kidnappers, but they were shooting at Pearlie and me, and they killed Seven and they shot Pearlie.”

  “Oh, Pearlie has been shot?”

  “Yes, but like your pa, he’ll be all right.” Smoke smiled. “And your ma is in Mule Gap, waiting for you. I expect she’s going to be one happy lady. I expect all your parents are going to be happy to see you,” he added.

  “I’ll be glad to see my mama and papa,” Wee said.

  * * *

  “All right, boys, I got the whiskey!” Whitman shouted, returning to the house and cabin. “I got us four bottles, that ought to hold us for a—” Whitman paused in midsentence when he noticed that the door to the cabin was standing wide open.

  “What the hell? Hey! The cabin door is open,” he shouted as he dismounted and hurried into the cabin. There he saw that the cabin was empty, and there was a big hole in the floor. That’s probably the way they escaped, he thought, but then the door was standing wide open. Why would they go through a hole in the floor, if they could just go through the door?

  Whitman hurried to the house to tell the others, but when he got there, he saw nothing but Reece’s half-naked and fully dead body. Whitman didn’t know where Keefer and Sanders were, but he figured they were probably in pursuit of the kids.

  For a moment, he considered trying to catch up with them, but he figured they had too big a lead on him. The best thing to do, he decided, was to go into town and tell the boss.

  Halfway to town, he came across the bodies of Keefer and Sanders.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  New York City

  Cal had still heard nothing back from Smoke, and that confused and worried him. Why hadn’t Smoke replied? He wondered if he should send another telegram, and if so, what should he say? Should he word the telegram in such a way as to make the situation more critical? Maybe Smoke didn’t get the telegram. The telegrapher said he had never heard of Big Rock. Maybe they couldn’t find it.

  But no, that wasn’t likely. Big Rock did have a Western Union, and they got telegrams all the time. Maybe he should send another one asking Smoke to come to New York.

  No, Cal didn’t
want to do that. He’d been with Sally when she was taken. He was responsible for her, and he was the one who should get her back. Muldoon had said just last night that they were making progress, but Cal would like to know just what kind of progress they were making. It was certainly nothing that he could measure.

  He went downstairs to check the clock. He had just enough time to eat his supper then go to the police precinct for the change of watch.

  “Hello, Cal,” the dining room waiter said. “Any word on Mrs. Jensen yet?”

  “No, Charley, not yet,” Cal replied. He and the waiter had become acquainted over the last few days.

  Charley had been intrigued by Cal’s Western garb, and confessed that he had always wanted to go west and be a cowboy. “I hope you find her, and that she is unharmed.”

  “I’ll find her,” Cal insisted as he picked up the menu.

  “Don’t eat the beef tonight,” Charley said, speaking so quietly that no one but Cal could hear. “It isn’t a very good cut and is quite tough.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “The pork roast is quite good.”

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Cal had never actually seen a big city police department before, so he had never seen a watch change, either. He found the entire thing very fascinating but was glad he was an observer rather than a participant in the event.

  It began with the police lining up like soldiers in a formation, then the watch commander spoke, giving them the latest information. “The Five Points Gang is giving us trouble again. Vito Costaconti got of jail last week, and word on the street is he’s gone right back to his old ways. Keep an eye out for him.

  “Also, Officer Muldoon is looking for a woman—”

  “Does your wife know that, Mickey?” one of the policemen called out, and the others in the watch laughed.

  “Here, now!” the watch commander said, scolding them by his tone of voice. “There will be none of that! It so happens that this is a fine lady of character, a visitor to our city when she got taken by person or persons unknown. And I’ll also tell you this. Himself, His Honor, the mayor has taken an interest in this case.

  “Muldoon and our new deputy, Cal Wood”—the watch commander looked toward Cal, nodded his head, and smiled—“are the two assigned to looking for the lady, but I want all of you to keep your eyes and your ears open. And if you hear anything, let us know.”

  “Lieutenant, it might help us in the search if you could be for tellin’ us the lady’s name,” one of the policeman said. “That is, if it’s not being kept a secret.”

  “That would be Jensen,” the lieutenant said.

  “Mrs. Kirby Jensen.”

  “What’s her first name, Lieutenant?”

  The watch commander looked toward Cal.

  “Miz Sally,” Cal said automatically, then he clarified it. “Sally is her first name.”

  “All right, gentlemen, you have the watch orders, turn out now, and remember”—the lieutenant held up his finger—“it’s us against them.”

  The watch was dismissed, and Muldoon went over to join Cal.

  “I’m sorry, lad, that we’ve no been successful so far. ’Tis sure I am that she’s still alive or we woulda heard about it. The brigands are holding her as prisoner somewhere, but the why of it escapes me. It can’t be for a ransom, for who would know that her husband is a rich man? And how would they be for getting in touch with him?”

  “I sent Smoke a telegram telling him about Miz Sally, but I’ve not heard anything from him.”

  Mule Gap

  “I wonder why we haven’t heard anything from Smoke,” Sara Sue said. “I’m beginning to get a little worried.”

  “Don’t be worried,” Pearlie said. “Smoke will be back with the children, all safe and sound.”

  “You say that with such confidence, Pearlie. How can you be so sure?”

  “I’ve known Smoke for a long time now. I’ve seen him in situations you would swear he could never escape, but he always does.”

  “I suppose that’s why they write books about him,” Sara Sue said with a smile.”

  “They write books about Smoke Jensen?” Sandra asked, surprised by the comment.

  “Yeah, they sure do,” Pearlie said, smiling. “But I tell you the truth. He’s not too happy about being a character in a dime novel.”

  There was a knock on the door then, so loud that it made all three of them jump.

  “Yes? Who is it?” Sandra called.

  “Do you have Miz Condon in there?” a man called from the other side of the door.

  Sandra looked over toward Pearlie.

  “Who wants to know?” Pearlie replied.

  “There’s a man in there, Angus,” a second voice said.

  There was another knock. “Open the door!” The order was loud and insistent.

  Pearlie took off his boots.

  “What are you doing?” Sara Sue asked.

  Pearlie held his finger over his lips, then signaled for Sara Sue to get under the bed.

  “Open the door!” the voice was louder and more demanding. The knock was much louder, too, and so heavy it was causing the door to shake on its hinges.

  “Sandra, get in the bed and pull the covers up to your chin,” Pearlie said.

  “What?”

  “Just do it, please.”

  Sandra did so as the loud knocking continued.

  “Open the door!”

  “Just a minute, just a minute. Hold your horses. I’m coming,” Pearlie said as he stripped out of his shirt, tossed it casually onto the foot of the bed, then tousled his hair. Bare from the waist up, except for the part of the bandage that could be seen sticking up from his pants, he padded barefoot across the floor, unbuttoning the top three buttons of his trousers.

  He opened the door, but only partway. “What do you want?” he demanded.

  Deputies Zimmerman and Delmer pushed into the room. Sandra let out a little scream of alarm.

  “Here!” Pearlie demanded angrily. “What do you think you are doing?”

  “We’re lookin’ for Miz Condon,” Zimmerman said.

  “Well, as you can see, she isn’t in here. Why are you looking for Miz Condon here, anyway? I believe you will find her at the hotel.”

  “She ain’t there,” Delmer said.

  “Then I have no idea where she is. What do you want her for, anyway?” Pearlie asked.

  “The Professor wants to put her into . . . what was that he said, Boots?”

  “Protective custody,” Zimmerman replied.

  “Yes, well, I think she would appreciate that. But go look for her somewhere else. As you can clearly see, you have interrupted a rather delicate moment here.”

  Delmer laughed. “Yeah, I can see that you’re . . . busy.”

  The two men left, and Sandra started to get out of bed. Pearlie held out his right hand and held the finger of his left hand over his lips in a signal to be quiet.

  Sandra looked at him confused by his action, but a few seconds later Pearlie’s action was validated when the door was jerked open again.

  “Now what?” Pearlie demanded angrily.

  Without actually coming into the room, the two men glanced around then left again.

  Pearlie walked over to the window and looked out. Not until he saw the two deputies walking away did he say anything. “All right, ladies, you can both come out now.” He reached for his shirt.

  “Oh, that was so frightening,” Sandra said. “But I’m confused. Those were both deputies . . . why should we fear them?”

  “It was deputies that shot me, remember,” Pearlie said. “Smoke doesn’t trust your marshal and his deputies, and neither do I.”

  “Oh!” Sandra said, lifting her hand to her mouth

  “What is it?”

  “Those men! They will tell everyone that we . . . that is . . . what they saw. I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again.”

  “Then come to Big Rock,” Sara Su
e invited. “I know that Sam and I can find something much better for you than what you are doing now. And you can stay with us until you get settled.”

  * * *

  Smoke and the six children were walking on the road.

  When they came close to where he had left the bodies of Keefer and Sanders, he held up his hand. “Wait a minute. When we get around this next bend, you kids are likely to see something you’ve never seen before, and I want you to be ready for it.”

  “You mean dead people?” Thad asked.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Keefer and Sanders, isn’t it?”

  “I expect so,” Smoke said. “I left them there, but if you kids don’t want to see the bodies, I can go up now and move them.”

  “I don’t want you to leave us,” Marilyn said.

  “Me, either,” Burt added.

  “I saw my grandpa when he was dead,” Wee said.

  “Well, your grandpa was laid out in a coffin, nice and neat,” Smoke said.

  “No, he wasn’t. He was on the porch swing with his head hanging down.”

  “All right,” Smoke said. “Just so you know.”

  The two bodies were lying just where Smoke had left them. He had been concerned that the buzzards or coyotes might have gotten to them, which would have made a rather gory picture for the children to see, but the bodies were, thus far, undisturbed.

  The children looked at the bodies with hesitant curiosity, then hurried on by.

  “I’m tired,” Wee said a while later. “Can we stop and rest?”

  “No, I want to go home,” Travis said.

  “I do, too,” Marilyn added.

  “What if I picked you up and let you ride on the horse?” Smoke asked. “Would that be all right?”

  “Yes!” Wee said enthusiastically. “I would like that!”

  * * *

  About half an hour after Smoke and the children had passed by the bodies of Keefer and Sanders, Whitman came across them. “What the hell?” he said aloud, pulling his horse to a stop.

  First Reece was dead, and now he’d found Keefer and Sanders. Clearly there had been a rescue made of the children, and it had to be several men involved in order to kill all three of them.