by Paul Bedford
As I strode towards the track boss’s tent, Shaughnessy’s great bulk suddenly appeared by his boxcar. ‘Just what de hell are you after doing then, boyo?’
‘This is no concern of yours, Shaughnessy,’ I retorted. ‘I’ve got business elsewhere, so don’t try and stop me. You might be the very devil with your fists, but this .52 calibre rifle has more than got your measure. When this is all over, General Dodge himself will set you straight. I promise you.’ The way things were shaping up, that seemed like one hell of a commitment, but mention of the chief engineer seemed to provide some small measure of reassurance to the walking boss. He didn’t back off, but neither did he push his challenge any further.
As Bill Cody led his skinning team into camp noisily, I stalked over to Casement’s tent and launched my self through the flap. General Jack stood, large as life, next to his portable cot. He had an oil lamp trimmed low, as though he had been expecting my arrival. His expression had lost none of its habitual belligerence, but what happened next took even him by surprise.
‘You set us up, you bastard!’ I snarled, slamming the Sharps’ stock solidly into his midriff.
Immensely strong though he was, it was too much even for him to withstand. Doubling over in pain, he staggered back. I was ready to hit him again, but some vestige of restraint stopped me. Instead I waited for him to catch his breath.
‘I did nothing of the kind, you stupid shit,’ he finally managed.
‘You sent them straight to our tent,’ I accused.
‘Yes, knowing that you wouldn’t be there. And even if you had been, it would have made no never mind, because I’ll tell you this, Wakefield. I ain’t taking a bullet for any man!’
After all that I’d been through, that was too much to take. ‘The hell with you and your goddamn railhead,’ I retorted, and lashed out with my Sharps again.
This time Casement collapsed to his knees, and it was at that instant that I heard movement behind me. Twisting around, I backed up against the tent’s canvas wall. Somehow I had known that ‘Buffalo’ Bill wouldn’t be able to keep his nose out of this, and he hadn’t disappointed. The buckskin-clad figure stood just inside the entrance, his Sharps carbine pointing vaguely in my direction.
‘My, my, my,’ he remarked softly. ‘This is one hell of an entertaining scene. I never thought to see anyone take a swing at the mighty track boss.’
‘What brings you back in the dead of night?’ I enquired suspiciously.
‘I heard a noise!’
I sighed. I had neither the time nor inclination to bandy words with this man, but the muzzle of his gun dictated the need for a certain amount of caution. ‘We had words over something that doesn’t concern you.’
Tilting his head slightly, Cody favoured me with a toothy grin that failed to reach his suddenly steely eyes. ‘You forget, I work for Mister Casement as well. How would it look if I just stood by and let you beat seven shades of shit out of him?’
‘I’ve done what I came to do,’ I explained patiently. ‘And now, as I’ve just informed Shaughnessy, I have business elsewhere. Don’t make this into something it doesn’t need to be.’
‘Such as?’
‘You and me trading lead!’
It can’t have escaped his notice that my own Sharps was held ready, and for a long moment we eyeballed each other steadily. I couldn’t say with any certainty what might have happened, but mercifully the impasse was broken by Casement drawing air into his lungs. Grasping the table, he staggered to his feet.
‘Leave it be, Cody. You’re here to kill buffalo and nothing else. What happened in this tent stays in this tent. At least until Wakefield has done what he has to do in Omaha.’ Slowly, he got to his feet and then glared at me. ‘Get out of here before I change my mind. If I find out you’ve hoodwinked me, there’ll be hell to pay!’
I needed no further encouragement. Easing cautiously past Cody, I left the tent and headed straight for the special train. With the whole camp now up and about, I was very conscious of a great many eyes following me, but mercifully no one attempted to rein me in. Reaching the hissing engine, I glanced up at the cab and found Dan’s cheerful face watching me with obvious relief.
‘I was grievously afeared we might not see you again, Josiah,’ he remarked with obviously genuine feeling. ‘Without you, we’d have been stopped in our tracks.’
I chuckled. The pun had completely escaped him, but who the hell cared? I was just damn glad to see him. Heaving myself up into the cab, I patted him affectionately on the back. ‘Where’s the box?’
‘In the carriage with Elijah.’ Seeing my instinctive alarm, he added, ‘Don’t fret yourself. He couldn’t get far toting that weight by himself . . . and besides, these two fellas needed a little persuading.’
Glancing at the two grubby crewmen in the light of the firebox, I noticed that one of them sported a livid bruise on the side of his face. Grunting my approval, I remarked, ‘Seems like Dan has already shown you our bona fides, so I’ll keep this short. We’re returning to Omaha . . . now. No arguments, no parley. Just get this thing moving!’
The engineer, who had already suffered my companion’s wrath, glared at me briefly before nodding at the fireman. With the boiler still hot, it took no time at all to get us rolling out of the camp. Then, despite everything, he just couldn’t contain himself. ‘Is every single one of them gunhands dead?’
I jerked abruptly with surprise, because it was only now that it truly registered with me what we had just done. ‘I . . . I guess they must be,’ I stammered. ‘Leastways none of them were moving. I can’t answer for them now.’
The other man shook his head in horrified wonder. ‘Well if that don’t beat all,’ he muttered. ‘You fellas must be real dangerous men!’ Then, as though coming to a decision, he stared sharply at me. ‘There’s one thing you do need to think on, mister. Come morning, there’ll be another supply train heading this way . . . on the same and only track. So unless you’ve got a death wish, you’re gonna have to pull off some pretty fancy moves!’
Chapter Eleven
It was still dark when I pulled the first of my moves. Once beyond audible range of the railhead, I glanced over at the engineer. Although the cab was rather crowded with four men occupying it, neither of the crewmen had said a word.
‘What’s your name?’ I demanded.
His expression was sullen, but he knew better than to ignore me. ‘Zachary.’
‘Well, Zachary, I want you to stop this thing right next to a telegraph pole, so that light from one of these lamps shines on it. Savvy?’
His sweaty features now registered both surprise and annoyance. ‘I don’t know what you’re fixing on doing, Mister, but I just got to set you right on one little matter.’ Caressing the control tenderly under his right hand, he suddenly stated with surprising passion, ‘This ain’t a thing. She’s a fine piece of precision engineering, an’ unlike a woman, if you treat her right she’ll never let you down!’
I stared long and hard at him, until he began to pale visibly. Then I uttered a deep sigh. So much had been going through my mind that it had only just dawned on me: just because this train had delivered a gang of assassins to the railhead, didn’t mean that these two men were involved. They were more than likely just ordinary employees, called upon to crew a very unusual train.
‘You’re quite right, and I’m sorry,’ I blurted out abruptly. ‘Sorry about your face, as well. If I survive all this, the Union Pacific will make it up to you. You have my word on it.’
His tired eyes widened in surprise. An apology was obviously the last thing that he had expected. ‘Yeah, well, OK I guess.’ He paused, as though mulling something over. ‘Perhaps if you were to tell me a little of what you’re up to, so that I understood, then I might be able to help you survive.’
I could see everything to gain and nothing to lose by it, so I did just that.
‘Hot dang,’ he finally opined. ‘You fellas sure have been busy.’
‘Far too busy for some.
That’s why I need to stop anyone at the railhead telegraphing Omaha about us. This cuss Dix won’t be expecting us to turn up on his own train, and I need to keep it that way.’
With a now fully cooperative engineer in charge, the train ground to a halt on the darkened track in exactly the right spot. Light from a kerosene lamp illuminated the Western Union’s telegraph line. Even so, it would be a difficult shot. High up on the pole, and set well back from the track, the thin wire was only barely visible.
‘Go join Elijah in the carriage, Dan. It doesn’t need two of us in here. And tell him not to worry about the shooting.’ With that I cocked and levelled my Sharps.
As my friend, who was never in any doubt as to the probable success of my shot, dropped down to trackside, I took careful aim at the modern marvel of communication. It suddenly occurred to me that the last time a white man had maliciously severed a telegraph line would likely have been in the war. Smiling grimly, I held my breath and fired, and was immediately rewarded by a metallic twang, as the taut wire snapped.
‘Hell, but that was fine shooting, mister,’ Zachary remarked appreciatively. ‘Were you in the late conflict, by any chance?’
‘Berdan’s Sharpshooters.’
‘I knew it. You’ve got the look.’
‘I’ve also got a fine weapon with honest sights,’ I responded. Then, after blowing powder residue out of the breech, I added, ‘Right, mister engineer, let’s move ’em out, if you please. The sooner we get to Omaha, the sooner you can get your head down.’
It was full daylight by the time I made my next move, only this time it wasn’t of my doing. Since my act of sabotage, I had spent the intervening hours alternately dozing on the floor of the cab, and scheming. So it was actually Zachary who instigated the action because, as I well knew, he too had been doing plenty of thinking. The engineer comprehended only too well what was coming directly for us.
‘Supply train’ll be on its way,’ he bellowed out over the engine noise. ‘I reckon we should pull into the next siding.’
I grinned up at him. He might not have enjoyed having his train commandeered, but he sure as hell didn’t want to die in it. ‘Sounds good to me. Just don’t try to make any unnecessary contact with the other train as it passes. Savvy?’
The older man returned the grin. ‘I understand. And it’s time for you to put in some more effort. There just happens to be a siding up ahead, an’ you’ll have to change the points.’
These extra lengths of parallel track had been periodically constructed near the railhead to allow for the manoeuvrings of supply trains, and had been left in place. As our train came to a halt, I dropped down from the cab and seized hold of the heavy control lever. It took a great deal of effort, but gradually it swung over its 180 degree arc, so changing the direction of the track.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t tell me to do it,’ Dan bawled from the passenger carriage. ‘I usually get all the shit jobs!’
With remarkable ease, our train swung onto the other track, and I returned the lever to its original position. ‘You’ll get your chance,’ I called over, before scampering back to the engine. I had just seen a plume of smoke approaching from the east. Damn, but we’d cut it fine.
Back in the cab, I glanced over at Zachary. ‘It might help if you gave him a friendly wave on his way past,’ I suggested.
The fireman, who until that point hadn’t uttered a word, noisily snorted. ‘You expect a lot, mister. Considering you done kidnapped us!’
Surprisingly, it was his partner who came back at him. ‘Hush, Lemual. He’s only doing his job. And it sure ain’t one I could handle.’
The heavily laden supply train, a mirror image of the one we had occupied the previous day, chugged steadily past. The engineer stared curiously at us, but Zachary favoured him with a cheery salute and the thumbs up sign. It seemed to do the trick, because they didn’t even slow down.
‘He wouldn’t have pulled up without sound reason,’ Zachary explained. ‘Not with the Sioux on the loose like they are.’
‘You did good,’ I remarked emphatically, before bellowing back to Dan to inform him that his turn on the points had come. ‘And now, since we ain’t gonna have a head on collision anymore, how’s about taking us to Omaha?’ Before he could answer, I added, ‘It might interest you to know that if we had had one, it sure wouldn’t have been the first this week!’
It was barely mid-morning when the city’s rooftops came into view. Our lightly laden train had made good time.
‘Slow up here,’ I ordered. ‘Just long enough for me to move into the carriage.’ Impulsively, I reached out to shake Zachary’s hand. ‘And thanks.’
He accepted my grasp and winked. ‘As soon as we stop near the engine sheds, you won’t see us for dust. Whatever’s coming your way, we don’t want any part of it. Fair enough?’
‘Fair enough,’ I agreed.
As the train slowed to a crawl, I leapt down and raced for the carriage. As soon as I gained the platform, it then picked up speed again. Both men were surprised to see me.
‘Can those two be trusted on their own?’ Elijah demanded.
‘I reckon so. They’ve no love for the bosses, and they certainly don’t want to be around more gunplay.’
‘And where do we stand now?’ Dan asked. ‘Apart from up shit creek without a paddle.’
I regarded my two companions with what I hoped was outward calm. ‘We’re staying right here to wait on events.’
Elijah shook his head in dismay. ‘Ain’t that just inviting trouble?’
‘Maybe,’ I allowed. ‘But you can bet that Dix will hear of this train’s arrival immediately. And since he’ll think it’s full of his own men, I believe he’ll come to collect this gold in person.’ Glancing through the nearest window towards town, I continued. ‘So let’s give him something to ponder. Pull down all these blinds, and then get the strongbox over to the door.’
With just the one blind left marginally raised, and with me stationed behind it as lookout, we then settled down to wait. I managed a fleeting smile at the sight of our crewmen beating a hasty retreat, but after that time weighed heavy on me. There were plenty of Union Pacific employees working nearby, but strangely no one approached the new arrival. It was almost as though they knew to keep clear of it.
Thankfully, it wasn’t long before there was some meaningful activity. A spacious open carriage, drawn by two well-groomed horses, swept out towards the tracks. Two men rode in it, and a third followed on horseback. Even keeping back from the window, so as not to be seen through the inch or two of raised blind, I easily recognized the immaculate figure of Oliver Dix.
The carriage came to a halt close by, and the outrider drew level with them. Together, for a long moment, they all peered expectantly at the surprisingly quiet railway car. Then Dix nodded impatiently at the horseman, and that man bellowed out, ‘You in there. There’ll be time enough for sleeping later. Get yourselves out here, now!’
When nothing at all happened, Dix glanced at the minion next to him. ‘This is the damnedest thing. Don’t they realize who’s waiting on them? Get in there and roust them out. If they’ve been drinking, it’ll cost them dear!’
That man clambered out of the carriage and approached the steps to the platform. Taking a fleeting look at Dan, I made a clubbing gesture with my Sharps, and he nodded.
Despite his obvious desire to appear detached from the doings of lesser mortals, Dix obviously couldn’t completely contain his anticipation, because he too alighted the carriage.
Leather boots thudded up onto the platform, and the door was flung open abruptly, flooding the interior with light. As I had envisaged, the man’s eyes fastened on to the strongbox alone. An avaricious smile spread across his seedy features, and he moved forward eagerly.
Without any warning, the Spencer’s iron butt smashed into the side of his skull, and he went down as though pole-axed. Dix heard the heavy thump, but with his thoughts presumably consumed by greed, he wasn’t ala
rmed by it immediately. Not so his mounted subordinate. ‘Something ain’t right here, boss,’ he announced, drawing a massive Le Mat revolver from his belt.
Not at all keen to chance the twenty-gauge shotgun charge that it contained, I thrust my Sharps through the window. ‘Don’t even think about cocking that piece,’ I warned. ‘Or you’ll join your compadres at the railhead!’
His hand froze, but not so his mouth. ‘What kind of threat’s that?’
‘A mighty good one. They’re all paroled to Jesus,’ I replied, by way of enlightenment. ‘Every mother’s son of them.’
The gun thug paled, but his employer apparently could still think only of Double Eagles. ‘Who the devil is in there? Show yourself immediately!’
Without taking my eyes of the horseman, I remarked to my companions, ‘I think he really wants that box. Guess you’d better give it to him.’
Dan was astounded. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying, really give it to him. Into his lap. Savvy?’
Oh, they savvied, all right. Chuckling together, like two juvenile conspirators, they both picked up the extremely heavy strongbox and lugged it out onto the platform.
‘Who the hell are you two?’ Dix demanded.
‘Ain’t he just the dandy?’ Elijah put to Dan.
‘And then some,’ Dan replied, and together they tossed the box full of gold coins at the feet of the uncomprehending Oliver Dix.
Out of my peripheral vision, I saw it land squarely on his highly polished boots. Abruptly screaming with pain, his reserved demeanour changed to one of total anguish. Doubling over, he tried desperately to heave it off, but couldn’t summon the strength.
‘Keep that other cuss covered,’ I called to the others, before scooting through the carriage and on to the platform. Dix regarded me through pain-wracked eyes, and surprise momentarily overcame distress.
‘You!’
I nodded grimly. ‘The very same. You wanted the gold that bad. Now you’ve got it!’
His no doubt habitual arrogance had completely dissipated. ‘Please, just get this off me!’
