Chance Reilly

by Patrick Lindsay

  “Hey”. Tim gave me a friendly smile and continued packing up his supplies. “You leaving Cimarron?” I asked. He nodded. “Not enough business for me in this neck of the woods,” he replied. “I’m moving the store up to Denver. I think there’ll be enough mining activity up there to make a go of the business.” I nodded and watched him for a while. I thought about the rumors of gold in the mountains to the north, and I thought of how little money I had; of how little I had to offer a woman like Kate.

  “Tell me,” I said eventually. “If you found gold around here, how would you go about mining it?” Tim stopped and looked at me with open curiosity, but he avoided asking the obvious questions he was probably thinking. He stopped his work and took a seat on a stool near the front of the shop. “OK, tell me more about it. Would it be a quartz deposit on the side of a cave or mountain wall, would it be gold in a stream bed, what?” I thought for a minute and realized I didn’t exactly know. “Probably a quartz deposit on a cave wall,” I said eventually. Tim absorbed that one and thought for a minute.

  “First, of course, you’ll need an axe to knock down the quartz.” As he talked he began to pull out the items he’d mentioned and stacked them on the floor. “Then, you would need something to crush the rock and separate the gold.” He pulled out a fairly large mortar and pestle and set that in the middle of the floor. I looked at it with some surprise. “Best thing for crushing the rock. You can get pretty efficient with it in a hurry. Then, you need a screen mesh to separate the rock sediment from the gold ore.” He set a large screen in a wooden box in the middle of the floor. I walked around to take a closer look at the screen. It was a pretty fine mesh set into a wooden frame. “How does this work?” I asked. Tim picked up the screen and did a brief demonstration. “You put the rock pieces and sediment on the screen, then sift and shake it. The sediment falls through the screen. The gold stays on top.” I nodded.

  “If you have a river or stream to work with, you can use a sluice box and run the water through to separate the gold,” he continued. “Do you think you’d be able to do that?” I thought about how vulnerable I would be to Indian attack if I knelt in a stream to pan gold, and I couldn’t imagine staying out in the open that long with no one to watch my back. I shook my head no and decided I would concentrate on working the cave walls with the axe.

  “OK,” he continued. “Well, you would have some gold ore at this point, somewhat separated from the rock. You could pack that out and have it processed in town.” He thought for a minute. “How light would you have to travel? Would you have a pack animal to carry the crushed ore out of there?” I thought about that one for a minute and told him I would want to travel as light as possible. He went to the back of the store, opened a few cabinets and came back with a bottle of some kind of liquid, some heavy work gloves and a large metal pan. “You could use these to crudely process the gold where you are, and you won’t have to pack out as much sediment and crushed rock.” He showed me the bottle—it was mercury. “You can take a cloth and spread the mercury on the bottom of the pan. Be sure you don’t get any on your hands. Pour the gold ore you have on the bottom of the pan and scrape out the gold after it mixes with the mercury. Scrape gold and traces of mercury into a brick or a ball. It’ll be heavy, but it is a lot purer form of gold to pack out with you. Gives you less stuff you’re trying to pack out if you’re in hostile country, and might keep some thieves from following you and stealing the gold before you can cash it in. You want to buy this stuff?” He waved his hand at the pile of supplies he had stacked in the middle of the floor.

  I thought for a minute and nodded. “I want it,” I said. Can you hold it for me for a day or two and I’ll come back to pay you and pick it up.” We shook hands. “Deal,” he said. “And if you’re ever in Denver with some gold ore you’ve mined, look me up. I can help you cash it in without attracting too many crooks and thieves.”

  I turned to go but hesitated in the doorway, trying to frame one last question in my mind. How much gold would I need if I wanted to really make a good start in life? What would it take to buy a ranch like the one my dad and I had, get some cattle and get going with my own place? I picked a number out of the air and looked back at Tim. “Let’s say I wanted to come out with $5,000 in gold. How many of those bricks you described would I need?” Tim stopped and turned that question over in his mind for a while. “Let’s say three or four bricks if the gold is pretty good quality.”

  I shook his hand and walked out to the porch. I figured I could pick up those supplies after Tim got them together and store them up in the cave until I decided to use them. I looked over at the doctor’s office and saw the door was still closed. A glance up and down the street told me there still wasn’t much happening in town. Time for me to be getting back.

  Shadows were lengthening across the yard and the corral when I got back to the ranch. I announced myself several times as I rode up, and I found Jim sitting in a corner of the porch, cradling his rifle. I joined him on the porch and Kate came out to sit with us. I told them I had left a message with Doc Chapman and he should be expecting our visit in the morning. There had been no sign of Yates Carson or Red in town. Jim handed me the rifle and patted me on the shoulder as he went inside. “I’m going to get us some dinner,” he announced. The door shut softly behind him.

  Kate moved over next to me on the porch and I helped her prop her ankle up on another chair. “How’s it feeling?” I asked as I sat back down beside her. She rested her hand on top of mine. “It’s doing better. I think the swelling is down a little more and I’m hoping it’s just a bad sprain. Doc Chapman will get me fixed up.” We sat companionably for a while in the silence, but I kept my eyes scanning for any movement in the yard. “What do you think is going to happen?” she asked eventually. I shook my head as I considered it. “Best case scenario, Yates Carson and Red were small time cattle thieves acting on their own without the brothers, and they’ve left town for good. I’m hoping for that one. Worst case scenario, all three Carson brothers move against us when they get word of what happened this morning. It would be a good idea if you and Jim pay a visit to the sheriff in town after you’ve seen the doctor tomorrow.” She absorbed what I’d said thoughtfully, then eventually laid her head against my shoulder as we watched darkness fall across the ranch yard. A few minutes later Jim told us he had some dinner ready and we went inside.

  Morning found me back on the trail to Cimarron, riding point for Jim and Kate, who were following in the wagon. We paused at the place where the trail branched off to the Carson ranch, looking at the tracks in the trail. None of them appeared to be fresh, so there were still no clues as to the whereabouts of Red and Yates. I hoped once again that they had just moved on. We completed the trip to Cimarron without incident. I surveyed the streets while Jim and Kate went into the doctor’s office. Everything still seemed pretty quiet, but I knew the best place to get information would be at the saloon. I rode over, tied Archie to the rail and went inside. Sam motioned me to a corner table as soon as I went in. We sat down and Sam glanced up as a young guy with a mop of blonde hair came up. Sam pointed at him. “This is your replacement, Chance. My sister’s kid, Mike. I’m teaching him the saloon business.” Mike grinned and shook my hand. “We don’t need anything Mike,” he said. “Just keep an eye on the bar for me.”

  Sam swung back around to face me. “You got trouble” he said shortly. I looked at him and waited for an explanation. “Word is that Yates Carson says you accused him of cattle rustling. He plans to call you out in town and kill you.” I stared at him and tried to process what he was telling me. Finally I spoke. “I did drop some big hints that he might be a rustler. And it turns out he is.” I told him what had happened the previous morning. Sam nodded. “Sounds about right.” I traced a pattern on the table with my finger. “Even if he manages to kill me” I said, “Kate and Jim still know he’s a cattle rustler. It doesn’t solve that problem.” Sam shrugged. He’s a hothead and a fool” he said eventually.
“I doubt he’s really thought it through that far.”

  I leaned back in my chair and thought about the choices I had. None of them sounded very good. “What about the sheriff?” I asked. “Has he heard about this and is he around?” “He has” Sam answered. “He rode out to the Carson ranch this morning to talk to Yates and try to calm things down. He’ll probably be looking for you too. Mostly he likes to keep things quiet and wants to stop this before it gets out of hand. I don’t think Yates is going to talk to him though. He’ll be more likely to avoid the sheriff and come to town looking for you.” Another thought struck me. “What about Red? Has anybody seen him or heard what he’s doing?” Sam shook his head. “I hadn’t heard about Red being involved in this until you just told me. I’d watch my back if I were you, though. He doesn’t strike me as a man who likes a fair fight.”

  I sat back in my chair and my hand dropped involuntarily to the Colt I had strapped to my hip.

  “What about the other two Carson brothers? Where do they stand with this?” Sam leaned forward a little. “You might have caught a break there. Word is they’re out of town.” I nodded. “Anything else you can tell me?” Sam put a toothpick in his mouth while he thought about it. “All three brothers fancy themselves gun hands, but the oldest one, Jack, is probably the only one who can make that claim. Middle brother is named Caleb. He’s probably been in a scrape or two, but he isn’t as salty as Jack. You’ve met Yates. He’s more talk than anything else, but don’t take him lightly. All three have probably been on the wrong side of the law at some time. Don’t trust any of them to fight fair. They’ll try to trick you or bushwhack you if they can.” He looked out through the window and pushed back his chair. “Sit tight for a minute. I’ll go out and check the street. I’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to know about out there.”

  I sat at the table and waited while Sam went outside. I hadn’t envisioned it coming to a head this quickly, nor had I thought I would be target number one. I had no intention of avoiding it, though. If he wanted to bring the fight to me, I would have to deal with it now. A few people glanced at me curiously, but no one came over to talk. I wondered how much the word had spread in town about this. Footsteps approached and I looked up to see Sam standing by the table. “He’s here. He’s in the main street in front of the hotel, saying he wants to see you out there.” I stood up and double checked my pistol. “Don’t let him trick you,” Sam said. “Watch his eyes. You’ll see it in the eyes if he’s going for his gun.”

  I took a deep breath, turned around and walked out through the batwing doors of the saloon.

  Chapter 8

  Sam remained at the table by the window as he watched Chance Reilly leave the saloon. He thought about what he’d just told Chance about watching his back and not counting on a fair fight. It remained in his thoughts and nagged at the back of his mind as he went about tending the bar and washing a few beer glasses. It seemed a little unlike Yates Carson to ride into town and challenge Chance to an even fight on the street. Sam mopped the bar absentmindedly… nobody had seen Red since the incident yesterday morning. A couple customers came in and headed for the bar, but Sam served them quickly, still lost in his thoughts. Finally he made up his mind and motioned his nephew over. “Mike,” he yelled. “Watch the bar.” Sam reached under the bar, picked up his shotgun and let himself out the back door of the saloon.

  He stopped outside the door, checked to make sure the shotgun was loaded, and thought in terms of that unfair fight he’d been talking to Chance about. If Carson planned some kind of ambush and he had stationed himself in front of the hotel at the north end of town, Red or whoever else was in on an ambush would be farther north on a roof or in a side alley so the shot would come from the same direction. Sam turned north and started working his way down the path that ran in back of the stores and shops on the main street. The town didn’t really have much in terms of side streets—just the alleys that existed between the shops. Sam worked his way steadily along, easing past the alley openings as he came to them, shotgun at the ready. There was a hum of voices each time he came to an opening between the buildings, and he realized that no one seemed to be entering or leaving the town.

  As he worked his way north to the hotel and the buildings to either side of it, Sam saw that people had gathered along the street in front of the buildings. He shook his head and thought about the stupidity of standing where you could be hit by a stray bullet. He glanced briefly into the alleys between buildings on both sides of the hotel, but people were standing at the front of both alleys, looking toward the street, blocking any potential ambush. Sam kept going, nearing the edge of town. At last, in an alleyway between buildings on the far north side of town, he found what he was looking for. Red was kneeling at the front of the alley, rifle extended out in front of him. Sam turned the corner and paused while he assessed his next move. Was Red the only one waiting in ambush, or could there be more?

  Finally Sam began to ease his way quietly forward. Time could be of the essence. Red was concentrating on the scene in front of him, which helped. Sam knew he wasn’t as cat-footed as he used to be, but he slowly and carefully closed the distance between them. Just a few more feet until the shotgun would be at its most effective. When he had closed to within a few steps, Sam could see that Red’s head had turned slightly and he seemed to be focused on sounds behind him. Red abruptly lunged to his feet, swinging his rifle around as he turned. Sam jumped forward the last couple steps and jammed the barrel of the shotgun into Red’s back before he turn any farther. Red froze where he was, but Sam could see he still had the rifle in his hands. Red hesitated, and Sam prodded his back with the barrel. “That’s a shotgun barrel you’re feeling,” Sam said in a conversational tone. “Don’t make me prove I know what to do with it.”

  Red dropped the rifle into the alley and stood motionless. Sam could see the pistol on his hip. “Hands up in the air where I can see them” he said. He backed away a few feet as Red raised his hands above his head. “OK, now turn around slowly.” If Red was surprised to see it was Sam holding the shotgun, he didn’t show it. His expression didn’t change. Sam motioned to the pistol and belt around Red’s waist. “Now unbuckle slowly and toss the whole belt over here. Be sure you don’t touch that pistol.” Red seemed to hesitate, looking at the shotgun and distance between them. “You’re welcome to try” Sam said. “If you do, I’ll scatter you all over the alley with this here shotgun. I doubt anybody will mind.” Red slowly unbuckled the belt and tossed it at Sam’s feet.

  “So,” Sam said, staring at him. “Cattle thief, dry-gulcher, and you don’t mind seeing a woman get dragged by her horse, neither. I’m thinking you need to leave town. When I’m done telling my story, they’ll be looking for a tree limb for you. I’m doing you a favor letting you leave. Where’s your horse?” Red’s eyes had narrowed in anger, but he made no move other than to point at the building next to them. “Tied to the rail in back.” Sam motioned again with the shotgun. “Go over and get on him.” Red looked at his pistol lying on the ground, then back at Sam. “You going to send me out in Injun country without my gun?” Sam considered that for a moment, then reached down and picked up the gun. He opened the chamber and emptied it. Then he reached down and picked up a single bullet. He tossed the pistol and the bullet over to Red. “Here,” he said. “You try to load that bullet before you’re out of town, you’ll hear from my shotgun.” Red picked up the gun and the single bullet. “And my rifle?” he asked. Sam’s gaze went from the rifle lying on the ground to the street and back. “I’ve seen how you like to use that rifle. It can stay here with me. I’ll make sure it gets a good home” Sam told him. Red put the gun in one pocket and the bullet in the other. “What if I run into Apaches between here and the next town?” Sam shook his head. “If that happens, I’d suggest you make that bullet count” he advised.

  Red moved slowly around Sam, giving wide berth to the shotgun. Sam followed him back to the end of the alley, and then watched as
Red mounted up. Red glanced back at Sam as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. He rode out of town without looking back. Sam walked back to the alley, bent down and picked up the remaining bullets lying on the ground. He straightened up, walked over and reached down to pick up the rifle. He stood up and had turned to go back to the saloon before he heard the sound of gunfire coming from the street.

  I stopped outside the saloon door and let my eyes adjust to the brighter light outside, still a little stunned at developments. My practice sessions in the woods with the gun might come in handy a lot sooner than I thought. I pulled the pistol from the holster and spun the chamber, making sure it was loaded. A couple people stood near the saloon eyeing me curiously, but I could see that most were up the street, congregating at or near the hotel. I turned and started in that direction.

  A familiar figure separated from the crowd and walked toward me, and I saw that it was Jim Randolph. I stopped and let him come to me. He crossed the street, shaking his head. “Have you heard about Yates Carson?” he asked. I nodded, glancing around as I did, wondering where Kate was. He followed my glance. “She’s still in the doc’s office. She just twisted the ankle. Need to stay off it for a few more days and then she’ll probably get around with a cane for a little while after that. I told her she needs to stay inside if she doesn’t want to stop a stray bullet.” He sighed. “She wanted to talk to Carson, so I went out to him and asked if he would take off his gun, come in the doc’s office with me and talk to Kate. That was a no. I think he’s crazy enough to believe he can clear his name in this whole business if he shoots you.” I looked down the street. “Still no sign of his brothers or Red, right?” Jim nodded. “That’s right.” He held out a hand to stop me as I started for the hotel. “I feel like this is my fight, not yours.” I hesitated for only a moment. “You already tried to talk some sense into him. Now I guess he’s made it my fight.” I moved out to the center of the street and continued toward the hotel.