by Paul Bedford
Throwing caution to the wind, I leapt across the gap between the last car and the tender, landing awkwardly on a pile of coal. Desperately struggling to keep my balance, I drew my Colt Navy Six just as the warriors urged their ponies over to the cab’s entrance. Thumbing back the hammer, I fired again and again at the clutch of attackers, until eventually it struck on an empty chamber. Three riders were blasted from their animals, and the rest again veered away from the heavy fire. Unfortunately for them, this once more brought them in sight of my companions, and more gunfire reverberated over the plains.
Holstering my revolver, I bellowed out, ‘I’m coming in,’ and then dropped down into the cab next to the startled engineer. He was a heavyset individual, coated in sweat and soot, and not a little blood.
‘Are you hit?’ I yelled over the noise of the engine, as I unslung my Sharps.
‘Nah. Forehead creased by a ricochet, is all,’ he answered dismissively. ‘Them bastards couldn’t hit a barn door with their new shooting irons.’
I sighed with relief. Now all I had to do was keep him alive. Cautiously poking the buffalo gun’s muzzle out of the cab, I looked for a target. Joy filled my heart as I discovered that the attack was effectively over. With the smokestack belching soot, the train was beginning to outdistance the Sioux’s tiring animals. We had done it. Huzzah!
Then something quite amazing took place. A lone Sioux warrior, raging at the unexpected turn of events, brutally urged his weary pony into a last ditch effort and charged directly at my two companions. With yet another stunning display of horsemanship, he controlled it with only his stocky legs. Working the lever-action of his Henry like a berserker, he fired bullet after bullet at the beleaguered white men. Although neither of them was able to rise up above their barricade of iron rails, they were not really in any immediate danger. How the warrior intended to capitalise on his momentary ascendancy would never be discovered, because at that moment I drew a fine bead on his mount and fired.
The pony’s front legs buckled, pitching the brave but foolhardy Indian over its head, and straight under the spinning wheels of the railroad cars. His gory demise was grotesque, but most likely instantaneous. Grimacing with distaste, I decided that I most certainly would not wish to be the one to carry out maintenance on that flat car’s running gear!
And then, finally, it was all over. Accompanied by a triumphant blast on the steam whistle, the train left both the stampeding buffalo and the thwarted Sioux behind. Blowing out my cheeks like a horse, I turned away and began the laborious task of reloading my weapons. The Sharps was a matter of moments, but the cap ’n’ ball Colt would be far more time consuming.
The engineer was regarding me intently. ‘It’s more than likely that you done saved my life, young fella.’
I couldn’t disagree with him on that score, but before I had a chance to comment, he added, ‘And just to show you how much I appreciate it, I’ve decided to make you my fireman.’
‘What?’ was all I could manage.
‘I can’t drive this great monster and feed the firebox as well.’ Then he made a great show of peering around the cab, before smiling broadly. ‘And there ain’t no one else here but you!’
It occurred to me that he appeared to have got over the violent death of his fellow crewman remarkably quickly, but then I had no idea what sort of relationship they had enjoyed.
‘Fair enough,’ I replied. ‘But you have to do something for me. When we get close to the railhead, I’ll need you to stop this train so that I can have a parley with my companions. Savvy?’
‘Now, why would you be wanting to do that, young fella?’
His slightly condescending manner was beginning to grate on me. Settling an unblinking gaze on him, I remarked, ‘Because I’ve just said so. And I’m answerable only to God and General Dodge, so don’t press me, old man!’ By way of emphasize, I just happened to allow the muzzle of my Navy Six to nudge his ample stomach.
The engineer’s eyes widened slightly, and he hurriedly nodded. ‘No need to get your dander up, Mister. It’s just my way, is all.’ Then, to show that he wasn’t completely cowed, he added, ‘The shovel’s over yonder.’
I nodded coolly. ‘When I’ve recharged this Colt. It’s saved your life once already, and may have to again, ’cause we ain’t at the railhead yet.’
Chapter Nine
The sun was approaching its zenith when the supply train came to a temporary halt. Sweating like a plantation hand, I was immensely grateful to down tools for a while. I couldn’t have imagined just how hot it could get in the cab, which ‘benefited’ from both the heat of the boiler and that radiating from the sun above. In addition to that, I had a relentlessly throbbing headache, presumably brought on by Elijah’s blow to my face. Consequently, I was not in the best of moods as I advanced down the side of the flatbed cars. This was not improved when I clambered up to join my companions: whilst seeking to avoid the dried blood and flesh clinging to the running gear, I painfully stubbed a thumb on an iron rail.
What I saw upon reaching the two passengers was therefore only guaranteed to inflame me even more. Dan and our ‘prisoner’ were idly lounging in the midst of the supplies as though they hadn’t got a care in the world. In truth there wasn’t really anything to occupy them, but the sight of Elijah still in possession of a firearm infuriated me.
‘For Christ’s sake,’ I barked at Dan, ‘what’s he doing still toting a gun?’
As Elijah stared at me sullenly, Dan registered both surprise and bewilderment. ‘But what if we get jumped by some hostiles again?’ he queried plaintively.
‘Well, then you give it back to him,’ I retorted angrily. ‘He’s lucky not to be still bound and gagged!’ Without any warning, I abruptly aimed my Sharps at Elijah’s belly. ‘Hand it over to him!’
That man’s features flushed red. ‘You’re a real ball breaker, ain’t you? I helped fight off them savages, you know.’ Nevertheless, he reluctantly passed the Spencer over to Dan.
What I did next came as an even bigger shock to him. Reaching out, I seized the Henry rifle from my friend and thrust it under Elijah’s nose. ‘You see this? If the damned army ever gets out here to protect us, they won’t have anything as good. I took it off a dead Sioux warrior a few days ago. They’d just attacked the buffalo hunters that had taken over from us. And the redskin that’s decorating the side of this rail car was using one against you. Don’t you get it? You could have been killed by one of the same rifles sold by the son of a bitch you’ve been working for!’
As my angry words sank in, Elijah glanced at Dan, as though seeking confirmation. That man nodded grimly, his normally cheerful face completely devoid of any good humour.
‘Yeah. Oh, yeah!’ I roared at him. ‘You might not like me any, but would you want Dan here to be spilling his guts out over the prairie just so your boss can get rich on blood money?’
Elijah switched his gaze back to me, and thought long and hard about that. Finally he replied, ‘No, I guess not.’
I handed the Henry over to my friend, and began to thoughtfully massage my aching temple. ‘So are you coming back to the railhead as my prisoner or as my employee?’
Not for the first time that day, Elijah’s face registered surprise. It was obvious that the last thing he’d expected was to be offered another job. He didn’t require quite so long to mull over that question. ‘I reckon it’ll have to be as your employee . . . once more. If you’ll have me.’
‘So, I’ll ask you again. Who have you been working for?’
He appeared to be genuinely shamefaced at that. ‘Nobody ever told me his name. His instructions just came through the fella whose throat you slit.’
Dismayed, I asked, ‘So what do you know about him?’
‘Real carriage trade. Leather shoes you could see your face in, and it seemed like his frockcoat had never been worn before. And he looked at me like I was a piece of hammered shit.’
It all sounded so familiar. ‘Small, with a thin mou
stache?’
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Elijah proclaimed. ‘Seems like you’ve already met him.’
‘I have, once, but he didn’t have a lot to say,’ I murmured absentmindedly. Already I was pondering how Elijah’s swapping sides could benefit us. Then it suddenly occurred to me. I glanced over at Dan and remarked, ‘It’s time for you to get your hands dirty. I’ve got other things to attend to. There’s a shovel waiting for you in the cab.’ Seeing his crestfallen expression, I smiled and added, ‘You’re getting off easy. We’re nearly at the railhead.’
As Dan reluctantly scrambled off towards the sweatbox, I turned to my ‘new’ employee. ‘I’m gonna need you to become my prisoner again . . . gag and all. The good part about it is that you’ll now be getting five dollars a day and found. Life’s looking up, huh?’ Despite my throbbing head, I had to laugh out loud at his stunned expression.
Our arrival at the railhead created quite a stir. There was nothing unusual about a supply train pulling in, but this one had a car coated with blood and had acquired a new fireman en route. As I got to my feet amongst the iron rails, I could see Jack Casement’s squat, muscular figure over by the engine. The track boss was in deep conversation with the engineer. I felt a sudden surge of affection for the familiar features. After days spent fending off various threats, it was good to be back amongst some friendly faces. Not that General Jack was always affable.
‘What the hell have you been up to, Wakefield?’ was his opening remark.
For some reason, I no longer felt quite so much in awe of him. Staring him straight in the eye, I replied, ‘There’s two things I want before we get to that. I need my prisoner locking up, and then I need to talk to you in private, where no one else can overhear.’
Obviously bemused, he tilted his head slightly. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Wakefield, this ain’t some kind of army stockade. It’s a railhead that’s moving west all day, every day.’
‘So chain him to a sleeper, or a rail. Who cares? Just don’t harm him, is all. I need him. We need him!’
The other man took all this in, including my more noticeably forthright manner. ‘OK. OK. I’ll go along with this until I see how things pan out, but you’ve got some explaining to do.’
A short while later the two of us were standing face to face on the edge of camp, or leastways we would have been had he stood on a box. Any conversation would be drowned out by the constant noise of track laying and cussing. Dan had remained with the train, guarding the strongbox until our return.
Staring up at me, the track boss got started first. ‘Before we get to it, I want to say that you did good on the journey out here. The engineer told me what happened. And I also got word of Cody’s little shindig. Seeing his wounded man, it appeared to me like you probably had more involvement than they gave you credit for.’
‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘That means a lot to me.’ I paused to draw in a deep breath. I really hadn’t been looking forward to this moment. ‘Can I trust you, Mister Casement?’
He appeared to swell in size before my eyes. ‘That’s a hell of a thing to ask me, Wakefield. You’d better have a damn good reason to come up with a question like that!’
‘Oh, I have. There’s a crook working for the Union Pacific. He’s high up. Maybe one of the directors.’
His response to that was not at all what I had expected. ‘Hah. All the directors are crooks in their own way. Why do you think they’re so rich?’
That momentarily floored me, but I hadn’t finished with him yet. ‘Crooked enough to be supplying Henry repeaters to the Sioux in exchange for the company’s stolen gold?’
Now that did get his undivided attention. ‘You mean the gold that General Dodge was talking about?’
‘The very same. I know that because I’ve got it back. It’s in a strongbox on the train, along with one of the rifles he’s been peddling.’
‘Sweet Jesus, you’re full of surprises today,’ he retorted.
‘Oh, I haven’t even got started yet. And this is where it gets kind of tricky. Who was the other man in the carriage that day, with the general? The short cuss with the moustache?’
‘Why?’
I related the whole story, swiftly but with precision. From retrieving the Henry whilst helping out Bill Cody, to following and apprehending the Indian traders, then the steamboat disaster, and finally the deadly fracas in the Omaha livery. Some sixth sense told me to withhold the full truth about our ‘prisoner’.
‘Good God, I see it all now,’ he exclaimed. At that moment, the walking boss called out to him from trackside, but Casement bellowed back, ‘Not now, Shaughnessy!’ Then his eyes were back on mine like limpets. ‘So you think the chief engineer might be involved, don’t you?’
‘I don’t know what to think. That’s why I’m talking to you.’
Casement’s mind seemed to drift off for long moments as he considered our predicament. He alternately chewed his top lip and scratched his hairy chin. I had never before seen him so preoccupied. A full five minutes passed before he returned his attention to me, and he seemed to have arrived at a judgment.
‘I served under General Dodge in the war and I’ve worked for him since. Nothing that I’ve seen of him would have me believe him capable of being involved in such dark deeds. The other fella you described goes by the name of Oliver Dix. He’s a director of the Union Pacific. I don’t know anything about him, but I took agin him from the first time I met him. He looks like he could be a real awkward cuss, and dangerous.’ He uttered a deep sigh. ‘Hell, you’ve sure opened a real can of worms, Wakefield.’
‘I’ve been doing what I was told to do . . . by General Dodge,’ I replied.
He smiled his acknowledgement of that fact. ‘Oh, that you have. And have you also considered what you’ll do next?’
I quite liked that. The track boss himself was asking me. ‘Well, actually, I have. The way I see it, you need to telegraph a message to Omaha for the sole attention of General Dodge, telling him we’ve recovered the gold, and a prisoner who’s got a story to tell about where it’s come from . . . if we can make him talk. And then we sit back and see what happens.’
Casement’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘That prisoner, I’ve seen him before somewhere.’
‘He used to work for me as a skinner, until he was tempted away by easy money from the son of a bitch I’m after.’ That wasn’t strictly the whole truth, but it would suffice.
Amazingly, the track boss merely nodded his satisfaction. ‘Seems like I’ve got a message to write. I just hope you can handle whatever comes of it.’ And with that, he turned back towards the bustling railhead. As always, there were matters that required his attention.
I remained where I was for a moment to take in the sprawling vista of noisy activity. It seemed to me that whatever might happen, nothing would halt the laying of track, and in a way that was comforting. It made me feel as though I had returned to normality. The question was, how long would that last?
‘I don’t know why I have to stay chained up like this,’ Elijah whined. ‘I’ve already done told you I’m your man again.’
The three of us inhabited a surprisingly spacious tent, which my newly enhanced status apparently merited. It was also pitched well in advance of any working parties, so that we would have some privacy before the freshly laid track caught up with us at the close of the working day. Our ‘prisoner’ was secured to one of the sturdy support posts. In truth, I did feel a little sorry for him, but needs must.
‘I reckon it won’t just be supplies that arrive on the next train,’ I answered obliquely.
Dan made no attempt to hide his confusion. ‘What on earth can you mean by that?’
My response was tinged with cynicism. ‘Just because Casement sent the telegraph message to General Dodge, doesn’t mean it’s him that gets to read it first.’
Now that really got Elijah’s attention, and also proved that he was no fool. ‘You mean I’m the bait, trussed up like a Than
ksgiving turkey as I am?’
Glancing briefly at the strongbox sitting next to him, I shrugged apologetically. ‘You and the gold both, but that’s just the way it is. And besides, you called it when you turned outlaw!’
‘Outlaw! I ain’t no stinking outlaw. I just needed a job, is all . . . after you gave me the heave ho! Come to think about it, you still owe me some dinero for skinning all them buffalo.’
This was getting us nowhere, and besides, if any of us were to survive the following day, I needed to come up with a plan, again. ‘Keep an eye on things, Dan,’ I remarked briskly, and ducked out of the tent.
‘Oh, that’s just great!’ I heard Elijah exclaim, as I moved away.
Instinctively I gazed off to the east, back along the existing track to Omaha, my mind taking in, but not really processing the recently built siding. As yet, Casement apparently hadn’t had a response to his telegraph . . . if indeed he had even sent one. I groaned. I was getting paranoid. I really had to work on the basis that he had, and therefore prepare for whatever came at us the following day.
Ignoring the curious glances of Shaughnessy and his tracklayers, I prowled around, weighing up my options. Obtaining a defensible position at a continuously mobile railhead would not be easy, yet there had to be a way. Because one thing was for sure, no amount of canvas would stop a bullet!
Then, suddenly, it all began to come together. Iron had stopped plenty of bullets on the way out from Omaha. I took in the construction train, which was closely shadowing the labourers. It contained rails, ties, sledgehammers and shovels; in fact, everything that could possibly be needed in the laying of a railroad. There was no way that Casement would let me interfere with that, but then I transferred my gaze to our supply train. By mid-afternoon that would be unloaded and heading back to its base, making way for the next train the following day. But what if it didn’t go back? What if it was just moved onto the siding?
