by Ralph Cotton
“No problem at all,” said Tinnis. “And is that my test? Killing the bounty hunter?”
“Yep,” said Shear.
“Consider it done,” said Tinnis.
“I do,” said Shear. He took out a small silver quarter moon with a star dangling from its upper point. “That’s why I’m giving you this right now.” He reached out, opened the blanket still wrapped around Tinnis and pinned the small ornament on Tinnis’ ragged coat lapel.
Tinnis locked his heels together military style and bowed slightly. “I will make you proud, Shear.”
“Hey, I’m Big Aces to you from now on, Lucas,” Shear said, reaching and patting the gambler’s dusty shoulder. He stepped back. “Now I have to go.”
“Go?” Tinnis looked surprised. “You’re not going to be here when I do this?”
“No,” said Shear. “I’ve got a big job waiting to be done. But I’ve got lookout men down there, and I’m leaving Lasko and Barnes to look after you—make sure you don’t fall again.” Again the sly grin.
“Obliged,” Tinnis said wryly.
“I’ll hear how it went as soon as you three catch up to us,” said Shear. He started to turn away, but before he did, he wagged a thick finger in Tinnis’ face. “Don’t you let me down, Lucas. We’re all counting on you.”
“Yes, sir,” said the gambler, drawing the blanket back around his shoulders. “I’ve got you covered.”
The gambler and the two riflemen stood watching until Shear had mounted and turned his horse and rode back the way they’d come. Looking back over his shoulder, Shear said to himself under his breath, “He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t blow his foot off. . . .”
As soon as Shear was out of sight, Barnes led all three horses aside and tied their reins to a hitch rail set up beside the trail.
“Let’s go, Tinnis,” said Lasko, gesturing toward the lookout men standing on a rock shelf twenty yards down a steep path.
When two lookout men saw the gambler and the two riflemen step down onto the rock shelf, they moved to one side and gave them room to look around. Tinnis noted the Gatling gun sitting on its iron tripod frame aimed down at the trail below.
“My, but isn’t this just the latest thing in fine armament?” he said, the Winchester cradled in the crook of his arm. To Lasko and Barnes he said, “Would you prefer if I used this and shoot all three of them when they show up?”
“You take care of the bounty hunter, Lucas,” said Barnes. “Metcalf and Neely here will kill the other two quick enough.”
The gambler smiled and shrugged. “I just thought I’d ask.”
Metcalf, a big, burly gunman from Kansas, stepped over beside Tinnis and pointed out at a lower jutting cliff across the canyon. “Look down the scope over there and search until you see a round of dynamite.” He paused and asked, “You have used a scope before, haven’t you?”
“I have dabbled with it. It has been a while since I’ve even held a rifle, I’ll admit,” the gambler said, raising the scoped Winchester to his shoulder. He wouldn’t mention that yes, he could use a scope, but his preference, his precision style of shooting had been with ladder sights, the gauging of wind, yardage adjustment—shooting with the naked eye. “But I shall try not to disappoint.”
Lasko and Barnes gave each other a guarded grin, watching the gambler adjust the rifle into place and look down through the brass-trimmed scope. He searched the steep rocky hillside across the canyon from them until he saw the round of dynamite—eight sticks bound together—with a fuse leading off and disappearing into the rocks.
“Have you got it?” Metcalf asked.
“Got it,” said Tinnis, his hand trembling a little, causing the scope to serve up an unsteady target.
“Good,” said Metcalf. “Now you’re seeing what’s going to happen just as soon as you make your killing. We’ve got a man up there just itching to push a plunger and blow this canyon trail all to hell. He’ll seal this canyon off. So if you miss, don’t worry about it. Anybody down there is dead anyway. If the rocks don’t kill them, we’ve got men down there who’ll take care of them.” He looked at Tinnis and added, “You’ll find that Big Aces is always on top of his business.”
Tinnis gave him a sincere look. “Thanks for telling me that. It makes me feel less pressed.” He gave Barnes and Lasko a dark look.
“Pressed . . . ?” Lasko chuckled. “You don’t think Big Aces would actually put all his stock on a drunk like you making a shot like this, do you?”
“Damn, gambler,” said Barnes, “take it easy. Like he told you, it’s a test. He just wants to know that your heart is in it.”
Tinnis ignored the two and asked Metcalf, “How long before you figure the ranger and the bounty hunters will show up?”
“If they found the empty cabin last night, they should have already been here by now,” said Metcalf. “You three go back under the overhang, get yourselves some coffee. I’ll let you know when they get here.”
“Sounds good to us,” said Lasko, already turning and walking past the Gatling gun toward the shadowy entrance to the cliff overhang. On the way there, he looked around at the gambler with a grin, then said to Tobias Barnes, “Just because this gambler gave his word not to drink doesn’t mean we can’t, does it?” He patted the whiskey bottle inside his coat.
“Not by any means,” said Barnes. “There’s nothing I like better than a good hard jolt of rye after breakfast coffee.”
The gambler walked along between them cradling the Winchester. He looked back and forth at each of them and shook his stitched head. “Umm-um,” he said with an air of disdain. “It’s a good thing for the two of you that I’m not drinking.”
“Yeah, why’s that?” said Lasko.
Staring straight ahead as they walked, the gambler said coolly, “Because I would drink you two children under a rock, is why.”
“You’d be the first one to ever do it,” said Barnes defensively. “I was out drinking with teamsters and skinners when I was no more than twelve years old, and that’s a God’s-honest fact.”
“Me too,” said Lasko. “And that’s also a God’s-honest fact.” He jerked the bottle out of his coat and examined it.
“Sure it is,” Tinnis said critically. “You keep telling each other that.”
“What’re you saying, Lucas?” Lasko asked.
“I’m saying you two couldn’t have made it through a Southern sewing party where I come from.” He gestured toward the bottle in Lasko’s hand. “That bottle will last the two of you for a week. “If I was drinking I’d pull the cork and kiss it good-bye.”
“Yeah, but that’s because you’re a drunk, Lucas,” said Barnes.
“Being a drunk’s got nothing to do with it,” said Tinnis. He gave a shrug. “Nothing against you fellows, but some of us can hold our whiskey and some of us can’t.” He walked under the cliff overhang, stooped down by a small fire and picked up an empty tin coffee cup. His hands trembled, but he kept them under control as he raised a battered coffeepot and poured. It took all his willpower to keep from grabbing the whiskey bottle, opening it and guzzling the fiery liquid until he felt its warm, furry glow overcome him.
Easy, fellow . . . , he cautioned himself.
While Tinnis filled the tin cup with coffee, he watched Lasko and Barnes set down a couple of rocks beside the fire. Lasko pulled the cork from the whiskey bottle and blew it away.
“I hate doing this in front of you, Lucas, you being a low-down drunk . . . needing a drink and all,” said Lasko. He grinned and kissed the whiskey bottle the way he imagined the gambler had talked about doing. “Good-bye, old friend,” he said to the rye, raising it to his lips.
Before he lowered the bottle, Barnes’ hand was out, reaching for it.
Tinnis stared at the two and said, “It takes more than one long drink to even get my guts settled. After that the serious drinking begins.”
“Yeah, well, here’s to you, Lucas,” Barnes said with a scoff. He tipped the whiskey bottle toward him. �
��Enjoy your coffee. . . .”
The gambler eased back, sat down on a rock and leaned back. He sipped his coffee, watching the two with a doubtful look on his face.
Chapter 15
Over a full hour had passed when Metcalf stepped under the cliff overhang and looked around. “Riders coming,” he said to the gambler and the other two men. He spotted the empty whiskey bottle lying near the fire. “Damn . . . ,” he whispered under his breath. “Are you fellows going to be able to do this?”
“We’re coming!” said Lasko, trying to spring to his feet as if he were sober. Tinnis saw the man stagger a little before catching himself.
“It’s about time they got here,” said Barnes, wiping his face with both hands. He stood too, in the same faltering manner.
“I’m fine,” Tinnis said to Metcalf. “Sharp-eyed and sober. What are we waiting for, gentlemen?” he said to the other two. He rose to his feet, the Winchester in hand, slung coffee grounds from the empty tin cup and set it upside down on a rock near the fire.
When the three arrived at the lookout post along the edge of the cliff, Metcalf handed a pair of binoculars to the gambler and said, “Look them over, Lucas. Tell me if they’re the ones.”
Tinnis leaned the Winchester against a short rock wall that stood in front of them and raised the binoculars to his eyes. The two bounty hunters and the ranger wobbled back and forth, then settled in the circling lens. “That’s them all right,” said Tinnis, moving the binoculars from one face to the next until he’d recognized each of them.
Barnes and Lasko stood close by his side, trying not to look too drunk. “Take your time, gambler,” Lasko said in a thick voice, feeling he should say something.
“Nothing to worry about, gentlemen,” Tinnis said, handing the binoculars back to Metcalf and picking up the scoped rifle. He kneeled down against the short rock and steadied his left arm on it. He raised the rifle butt to his shoulder and looked down the long scope.
As Tinnis prepared to make his shot, Metcalf looked at the other two with disgust. “What the hell got into you, Lasko?” he said in a harsh whisper, considerate of the gambler’s concentration.
“There’s not a damn thing wrong with me,” Lasko replied in a gruff and less considerate voice.
“Me neither,” said Barnes.
“Shhh,” Tinnis said over his shoulder. “I’ve already told you, it’s been a long time since I’ve held a rifle.”
Lasko cursed under his breath. But both men settled down and watched.
On the trail below, Thorn rode at the head of the three riders, his broad chest held high—a perfect target, Tinnis told himself, watching in the circling lens.
Metcalf eyed Barnes and Lasko with disdain and stepped over closer to Tinnis. In a soothing whisper he said to the gambler, “Take it easy, Lucas. Remember what I told you—we’re going to close this canyon anyway.”
“Oh? Are you sure?” Tinnis said, as if he hadn’t heard Metcalf say the same thing earlier.
“Oh yes, I’m sure,” Metcalf said, in the same calming tone of voice.
“In that case . . . ,” said Tinnis.
“What?” Metcalf asked, surprised, seeing the slightest shift in Tinnis’ position.
“I’ve got it for you,” the gambler said quickly. He settled into his shot.
“No, wait!” shouted Metcalf, seeing what was about to happen. But it was too late. He saw the gambler’s trigger finger squeeze back, smooth and expertly.
“I got it,” Tinnis said proudly.
“God Almighty!” shouted Lasko as the ringing shot turned into a heavy thunderous explosion. The whole valley and hillside beneath the cliff ledge seemed to lift in an upward thrust, then slam back down into place. Barnes tilted back against the rock wall and caught himself to keep from falling. Metcalf ducked down, taking cover beside Tinnis, seeing the high rise of dust, rock and debris billow above the down-sliding hillside.
“Jesus, what have you done, Lucas?” he shouted above the resounding blast.
“I blew up the valley, just like you told me to,” the gambler said.
“No, you idiot!” screamed Metcalf. “I said we’re going to blow the valley, not you!”
Tinnis’ smile of satisfaction seemed to melt from his face. He stared at Metcalf for a moment, stunned, then said, “Oops.”
“Oops . . . ?” said Metcalf. “How the hell can you make such a mistake? You knew what Shear wanted from you!”
“Don’t raise your voice to me, sir,” Tinnis said indignantly. “I’m a sobering drunk! I told you I haven’t held a rifle for a long time—”
“That’s no damn excuse,” said Metcalf, cutting him off.
“I’ve been straddled with these two drinking right in front of me for the past hour . . . my nerves are jangled,” said Lucas. “What do you expect? I thought you told me to blow up the canyon!”
Bits of broken green pine and chunks of dirt and small rock rained down on the ledge around them. Barnes and Lasko moved forward and hunkered down beside Metcalf and the gambler along the short rock wall.
“Damn it to hell, Lucas!” Lasko said, dust falling from his lowered hat brim. “Shear hears about this, he’s going to go wild!”
“He’s going to want to nail your nuts to a root cellar door, gambler,” Barnes warned.
“I did what I thought Metcalf asked,” Tinnis said, dust streaming on his bare head. “If I was doing wrong, you should have stopped me, Ted.” He gave both Lasko and Barnes a condemning stare. “I’m sure one of you would have, had you not been drunk at the moment.”
“Jesus, what have we done?” said Lasko, beginning to realize the consequences of him and Barnes drinking when they were supposed to be in charge of the gambler.
Beside them, Metcalf fanned his hat and squinted into the heavy cloud of dust and debris. “The main thing is, don’t lose your heads,” he said. “I told him we were getting ready to close this canyon. Everybody down there is dead now anyway.”
“You think so?” Lasko asked, venturing a drunken gaze into the thick dust cloud.
“Sure they are,” said Metcalf. “It would’ve been better if they were thirty yards closer in. But they’re dead, no way around it.” He gave a thin smile as he looked around at the others in the falling dust and debris. “All you’ve got to do is get your story straight and stick to it. Who’s going to say otherwise?”
Barnes and Lasko turned their hard stares to the gambler.
“Not me,” said Lucas. “I’m the one trying to get in the gang, remember?” Dust gathered on the shaved area of his stitched-down scalp. “Whatever lie you tell, I’ll go along with it. I do hope you’ll mention me favorably , of course.”
The two gunmen looked at each other. “What else can we do?” Barnes said to Lasko with a shrug.
“What else? I’ll show you what else!” Lasko turned wild-eyed. He jerked his dust-covered Colt from his holster and pointed it toward Tinnis.
“Now, that’s real smart,” Tinnis said with quiet sarcasm. He shook his dust-covered head. “And to think, you’re the one who brought along the bottle just to entice me, as I stumbled ever further along my rocky road to sobriety.”
“Put that damn six-shooter away, Lasko,” Metcalf demanded, reaching out and shoving the Colt’s barrel away from Tinnis’ chest. “How are you going to explain killing him to Big Aces?”
Lasko bit his lower lip in frustration. Finally he said, “Damn it to hell!” and put his Colt away.
“That’s more like it,” said Metcalf. “Let’s fan our way over and make sure the canyon’s sealed down. At least we’ll get something right out of all this mess.”
“You do that, Metcalf,” said Lasko, “if you’ve got a mind to.” He looked at Barnes for support. “The three of us are getting out of here. I’m not missing out on this big job if I can help it.”
“And nor will I,” said Tinnis with a dust-streaked grin. He fingered the quarter moon and star Shear had pinned on his chest. “Now that I am a member of the
Black Valley fold.”
The ranger and the bounty hunters had felt the sudden rumble and thrust of the explosion above the trail in front of them. But before the fiery blast had reached its highest level, and before the dense canyon wall cracked like thick glass and began falling, they turned their horses and raced away.
With the heat and the dust and debris gaining on them, chasing them, it appeared, they cut around a sharp turn in the trail and veered in close to the sheltering hillside. They watched the blast sweep past them along their trail like some angry hoard in their pursuit. As the dust found them and closed around them, the three watched boulders larger than houses roll and toss and rumble to a sliding halt, filling the trail and the narrow canyon floor.
“Are you two all right?” Sandoval asked, rocks and broken pine limbs still bouncing down and coming to a heavy landing on the rocky ground outside their hillside sanctuary.
“I’m all right,” Sam said, stooping, inspecting his stallion’s forelegs.
“As am I,” said Thorn. Taking off his hat, he fanned it back and forth, and said, “Well, at least we know they’re here.”
“Yep,” said Sam. “And I expect we’ll be hearing from some of them any minute.” Standing, he drew his Winchester from his saddle boot and levered a round into the chamber.
“Right you are,” said Thorn, picking up on what Sam had said. “Shear wouldn’t blow this canyon unless he had some men down on this lower side to make sure we’re all dead.”
“I wonder why they didn’t wait just one minute longer before igniting the blast?” Sandoval said, dusting chips of rock and small splinters from the front of his shirt. “It would’ve caught us riding right under the blast area. We would have all been dead.”
“I heard a rifle shot before the blast,” Sam said, already trying to see through the thick cloud of settling dust. “I’m wondering if somebody made a mistake and shot the dynamite instead of waiting and using the plunger.”
