They arrived at the ranch without incident and the man on the ridge had not been seen again. Apparently, it was just a traveler in the night and there was nothing to be feared.
The ranch house was large and imposing, even in the dark. Light glittered through the windows of its prominent two stories. Everything about it wreaked with opulence and wealth. Obviously, servants kept the house well lighted, even when Lucky King was not there. The light shown into the circular driveway and outside lanterns lit the area with ample light. Manuel handed the saddle bags to Clayton. In the light he could see the bandana strategically tied around Manuel’s throat which covered most of a long scar that reached diagonally across his neck. This was apparently the cause of Manuel’s whispery voice. Another servant rushed out to the surrey and helped Tamara and King down. A hostler emerged from the barn and gathered up the teams reins and led them off.
The rest of the evening was pleasant and uneventful. Conversation was light and both Lucky and Tamara seemed comfortable with their guest. Servants kept them supplied with a snack and some fine wine until they retired. Jack was given a room on the second floor at rear side of the house. Tamara took a room next to Jack’s on one side, while Lucky, occupied the room on the other side of Jack’s.
They had all bade each other goodnight, looking forward to the morrow. Jack closed the door behind him, made himself comfortable with the surroundings, although he was not used to such luxury.
With the light out, Jack lay awake in the softy downy bed and thought. Did Tamara and King have a plot here?" Or were they working separately, with separate agendas. Obviously, he had been maneuvered here for a reason. He was very uneasy. No one knew he was here. He was stranded here without even Regret. Why the trip to the mine in the morning?" Did King know he wasn’t a mining inspector?" Probably. But what was there about Tamara that seemed to tell him to play along?" What about Manuel?" Did he remember Clayton?" Did he still harbor a grudge?" What was his name before?" Clayton couldn’t remember for sure. It was something like Vasquez or Vittoro. Something like that. Who was the man in his hotel room?" Who was the man following them from the ridge?" Was it the same man in town?"
With all these questions spinning in his brain, Jack finally succumbed to his fatigue and went to sleep.
A few hours later, Jack jerked awake. He had heard a sound. He sat up, listening in the dark. He reached under the pillow and pulled his pistol out. Cocked it and held it ready. The noise again. It was the door. It rattled slightly. He padded quickly across the room and put his hand out lightly on the doorknob. He felt it move in his fingers. Someone was out there, trying to get in. Was this the plan to shoot him in his sleep. But then he realized that the door was not going to open. It was locked. Lucky had not told him he would be locked in. But, now whoever was out there was locked out as well as he was locked in.
He could see a faint flicker of shadow beneath the door, then a piece of paper slid through under the door. Jack stared at it for a moment, waiting. There were no further sounds outside. Whoever was there had left a note and was now gone.
He retrieved the note, strode to the window and closed the heavy drape, went back to the bed and lit the lamp, keeping the wick low.
In the faint light, he read the note. It was from Tamara. Just what was her game anyhow. He read:
Jack,
King knows all about you. I let him think you were posing as a mining inspector. He’s playing you along. I’m playing him along. Something’s going on at that mine. Play along with me. Trust me.
Tamara
"Lady, you are something else, "Jack thought to himself.
He placed the edge of the note into the flame of the kerosene lamp, turned it slowly until it was completely burned. He dropped the ash quickly into an ash tray as it burned down to his fingers and singed them a bit. He turned the lamp out and sat in the darkness, thinking, unable to unravel the mystery. Finally, making up his mind, he got up, fished out a dark shirt from his bags and put it on. Tucking the pistol into his waistband, he went to the window, pulled the drapes apart but did not open them. He unlocked the sash and pushed it open and leaned partially out. There was a large oak tree in the yard, its branches yawning close to the house. Jack appraised the proposition. Yes, he could do it. He could lean out, swing on to a branch and then make his way through the branches and reach Tamara’s window. He was probably letting himself in for more trouble, but he needed to know what was going on. He needed to try.
His transfer from the window sill to the tree was fairly easy. Traversing the branches was a little harder but not too bad. The heavy foliage kept him pretty well camouflaged while he was in the branches. The difficulty was crawling to Tamara’s window. He would be fully exposed. He hoped he would gain access to her room quickly before anyone could spot him on her ledge. He glanced furtively up at the full moon as it peeked out from behind a cloud.
He swallowed, gritted his teeth and swung out and found a perch on a low hanging branch near the window He lay there motionless looking to see if anyone was around. It looked clear. Not wanting to surprise the girl too suddenly, he reached out, broke off a small branch and brushed the window pane with slight tappings.
The drapes pulled back in an upside down vee and a feminine face appeared in the window. Her eyes were wide with fear and urgency. She started to open the window, then suddenly placed her fingers to her lips and pointed downward toward the front of the house. The drapes fell shut.
Clayton, prone on the branch looked in the general direction and in the lantern light of the front yard, he could see Manuel. He held his breath, remained rigid, and listened to his heartbeat in his head. "Don’t look this way." Jack thought desperately. Then he sighed with relief as he saw the Mexican disappear.
He brushed the window again. Drapes parted, the window opened. He quickly swung inside. The drapes closed. "This is dangerous," she gasped, hardly visible in the darkness. She clutched her robe tight about her neck as if it could provide security.
"This had better not be a trap of some sort, Lady, "Clayton warned with a whispery angry growl ."Start talking and talk fast."
"Look, Jack. We’re both after the same thing. You want King, but I wanted him first."
"You got him. He’s got you, "Jack sneered.
"‘Not that way, Jack. I want him dead."
"Oh, " skepticism in his voice. "Why?"
"Is it that important?" She pleaded. "Listen, he knew you were coming days ago. Don’t ask me how, I don’t know. He’s part of a big crime syndicate. I don’t know how big but it’s big and powerful."
"He knew when you were to arrive and the route you were taking. We staged that thing in the canyon today. I was supposed to leave you in the canyon on foot without weapons. There were men in the rocks waiting to shoot you down with no chance to fight back"
"And you went along with it?" he complained.
"I had no choice. I was being watched."
"Threw me to the wolves, "
"Well, yes." she stammered. "But it worked out didn’t it?"
"Why didn’t you warn me?"
"Look, I came here to get Lucky King. I didn’t have enough to go on yet and I couldn’t risk you getting to him first."
"What changed your mind?" Why are you telling me now?" Clayton quizzed.
"I know something has been going on at the mine. King’s men are coming and going all the time. Always something about the mine. After they didn’t get you in the canyon today, the men seemed to disappear. One of the men, who I hadn’t seen for a few days showed up in town this afternoon. He had some angry words with King. Again it was something about the mine. I think what ever the plan is its happening now. That’s why I told King that you told me you were a mining inspector. I wanted to rattle him. It didn’t seem to bother him. In fact he laughed at it. Since he knew all about you already, he was satisfied to let you think you were fooling him, passing yourself off as an engineer. You can bet he’s got something deadly planned for you." Then she added, "Me too, if he eve
r finds out I’m crossing him Especially if he ever finds out I’m with the Pinkerton’s."
Clayton had suspended believability as he listened. This last revelation stunned him. Then he sneered. "You expect me to believe that?"
She stared at him through the darkness, silent. Then sighed and breathed. "Yes."
The G-man’s brain was racing inside his head as he traversed the tree limbed highway back to his room. Quickly, and silently, he swung from branch to branch and then crawled through the open window hoping his travels had not been noticed. How wrong he was! Across the yard, two glaring eyes stared through the parted bushes, watching, waiting.
*****
Chapter Thirteen
Tunnel of Death
King of the Gun Trail: A Frontier G-Man Novel Page 12
