Ralph Compton Thirteen Bullets, page 12
Rope creaked and the lamplight lit up a bright red face, upside down in front of him.
Gwen hung from the loft, her ankle caught in a loop snare, both hands trying to hold her skirts up for modesty as she swung gently some six feet off the ground.
Dan raised the lantern, gazing up at her.
“Is this your foolishness, Dan Karr?” she demanded, indignant.
It was Dan’s trap, sure enough. But if he were the one hanging upside down, he expected that he’d think twice before calling other people fools.
“You lost, Gwen?”
“Spare me your lectures, Dan Karr. Your rules are silly and I will not be a prisoner in my own house.” She was rotating slowly away from him, and twisting her body to try to maintain the intensity of her glare.
He hung up the lantern and leaned against the beam, puffing on his cigarette.
“You know how much work it is to set them traps in the evening and make them safe in the morn, day in and day out?” he asked.
“Labor that no one asks of you!” she retorted, still blushing furiously. “Now bring me down at once!”
Dan stood up straight with a groan and went past her, toward the stalls, where the horses were. He walked past the first wall and looked down and to his left, at Ephrem, whose hiding place wasn’t much good, and his breathing would’ve given him away regardless.
“Go to bed.”
“Yes, sir,” Ephrem said at once, leaping up and fleeing without meeting Dan’s eyes.
Dan listened to Ephrem’s footsteps fading toward the servants’ house, and then he went back to the post where the line was tied. He undid the knot and slowly lowered Gwen to the floor. Her landing was awkward because she couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to manage her dress or use her hands to help herself down. In the end, she thumped down, ripped off the snare, and hopped to her feet, trying to glare and brush straw off herself at the same time.
Gwen really took pride in that glare. Dan put the line aside and blew out the lantern; he didn’t have the energy to get the snare ready again; doing so involved bending a fairly strong bundle of sticks, and he was tired.
“You are misunderstanding the situation,” Gwen said furiously.
Dan hadn’t said a thing. Gwen was an even worse liar than her father.
Her eyes narrowed as she followed him to the door. “You will not tell him, will you?”
“You tell him,” Dan said, nodding toward the house. Kingsley’s bedroom window was lit; it hadn’t been a minute ago. The snap of the rope and Gwen’s squawk hadn’t gone unnoticed.
She clutched Dan’s arm.
“No,” she moaned.
“You’d best get in your bed. Use the window.”
She balked. “The window? Like a thief?”
“It’s that or the door.”
“I am not a squirrel, Dan Karr!” she retorted.
“God didn’t put that trellis there to look good,” he pointed out tiredly.
She fumed in silence, but only for a moment before lifting her skirts and hurrying toward the house. Dan followed at a more leisurely pace, finding her around the back at a loss; the trellis did not extend to the ground. She needed to get on the porch, then the railing, then grab that lip up there—but she was still working that out.
“Do you need help?” he asked, rubbing his chin. He’d cut himself shaving.
“No, I do not,” she said, clambering up. She got up on the railing all right, but slipped when she tried to hoist herself toward the trellis. Dan caught her by the waist and held her up until she could get a grip, but the grip wasn’t enough. Riding a horse or taking a walk was about all she ever did, so it stood to reason that her arms weren’t good for anything more than pointing angrily when she got loud with her mother and father.
She wiggled in frustration.
“Help me,” she commanded.
Dan sighed and gave her a push. She scrambled up and got the window open, tumbling through. Her face reappeared immediately, glaring again.
“Thank you for your gentlemanly assistance,” she whispered down at him, not very sincerely.
“Maybe you should sleep in the stable,” he replied. “You weigh as much as a horse.”
It wasn’t true, but she wasn’t the only one who rarely did any hard labor. Dan’s arms were sore just from helping her.
Gwen stuck her tongue out at him, then shut the window.
Dan shook his head and went back around the side of the house, perching on the broken cart out front to roll another smoke.
The front door opened, and Kingsley’s shadow stretched over the porch and down the steps with a gun in his hand. Even after all this time, he still had Tom’s Army pistol.
Dan was invisible in the dark until he struck his match. Kingsley stiffened.
“Dan?” he said uncertainly, descending the steps.
“What are you still doing up, Kingsley?”
“I could ask the same of you,” Kingsley replied, approaching.
“That’s close enough,” Dan told him.
Kingsley halted, looking puzzled. Dan gestured with his cigarette, and Kingsley looked down, noticing for the first time that there was a primed bear trap just inches from his bare foot.
He swallowed.
“It’s two rules, Kingsley,” Dan said, cutting him off before he could speak. “Follow them. Make sure your family does too. Especially now.”
Kingsley swallowed and nodded. “What’s to be done?”
“ ’Bout that note?”
“Of course.”
Dan puffed thoughtfully. “It was delivered by someone in your house.”
“Are you certain?” Kingsley let out a long breath. “Could it be Ephrem? Or Herbert?”
“I ain’t sure enough to make the accusation, but it’s the only way I can figure it. I ain’t seen one sign of an intruder. And I reckon they have an accomplice,” Dan added.
“Why do you say that?”
“Someone to put them up to it. And to collect the money.” Dan shrugged.
“What shall I do?”
“Do you have the money?”
“I will pay any amount for the safety of my family.”
“Then let’s try giving them what they want.”
Kingsley nodded gravely, not a trace of reluctance on his face. “Do we ride out tonight?”
Dan let out a bark of laughter that startled the other man.
“Tonight? No. And it’ll just be me.” He snorted and put out the cigarette. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to let them keep it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dan had never delivered a ransom before.
That was what this was, even if whoever had written the note didn’t have a gun to anyone’s head. He had heard of a ransom, or overheard it rather. The way it had been told, it usually didn’t go well for anybody.
In a typical month, Dan spent at least two weeks away from the house, delivering letters. That made it difficult for him to believe that this was a ruse to lure him away. All the same, he left in the dark and took a long roundabout route. If there was someone on the road waiting to see him pass, they’d be waiting a while.
He didn’t have the faintest idea what Alexander’s Hill was supposed to be, and neither did Kingsley, so he had to go to Redding and ask about it. Dan was always wary, but today he was particularly alert. A part of him had hoped to find himself being watched in Redding, but there was no indication of anyone following him. He even dragged his feet and made sure to be seen in a few different places.
It was all for nothing. Nobody paid him any mind.
It was uncomfortable to be carrying a small fortune. Dan had never been robbed, but it stood to reason that if he ever was, it would be when he was carrying a whole lot of another man’s money.
Dan had hoped to simply get his hands on someone trying to spy on him, but with no spy to chase, all he could do was go see what was waiting for him. Someone would be there. Maybe whoever had left the note was working in good faith; maybe they wanted just to get the money and go with nobody hurt.
That was an interesting thought, and there was nothing to do but think as Dan rode. It was hard to try to read a man’s mind when Dan didn’t even know who the man was supposed to be.
Alexander’s Hill was apparently a good five miles away, named for some unfortunate man who’d found some fool’s gold there and burned up everything he had trying to open a mine. The trail took him into the thickly forested hills west of town, where an abundance of grizzlies kept all but the hunters out, or so Dan had heard.
A healthy breeze kept the pine needles rustling, which wasn’t helping. The trail wound between steep hills, all of it covered in evergreens. He liked to be on the lookout for places that begged for an ambush, but that was difficult to do when every foot of the trail seemed ripe for it.
A flock of birds took off in the northwest. No bear had caused that. Someone was close by, but it could easily be someone after furs. Dan considered going into the brush to investigate, but decided against it. He’d done enough creeping around the woods last night, and there were still miles between him and this hill. If he wanted to get back to the house before dark, he had to keep moving.
Yet he tugged the reins to stop Petunia in her tracks. She hadn’t noticed yet, but Dan’s eyes missed nothing.
The cat was by the side of the trail. It had been licking its paw, but now it stared straight at him.
The damn thing was black from end to end. Dan held his breath.
It started to move.
“Don’t,” Dan warned.
The cat was poised to take a step onto the trail. The big yellow eyes didn’t give anything away, but what was a house cat doing here? Redding was fully a mile back. The creature didn’t look disheveled enough to be feral, although it had been bathing itself a moment ago.
It put the paw down, taking a step.
Dan jerked his Schofield out and fired. The bullet struck the ground in front of the cat, causing it to draw back with a hiss as birds erupted from the trees and the shot echoed up and down the trail.
The cat had moved, but it hadn’t blinked, and it still didn’t retreat. It wanted to cross in front of him.
Dan cocked the hammer and took aim.
“I won’t miss,” he threatened. “You take one more step and it’s the last thing you ever do.”
It took another step.
Dan’s teeth ground. He couldn’t do it. He climbed down to fire at the ground again, and this time the cat didn’t even jump or hiss. It just stared.
“Go on!” he said, waving the gun. “Go back thataway. I ain’t warning you again.”
The cat’s pink tongue flicked out to lick its lips.
“You got no quarrel with me!” Dan said, spreading his arms.
The cat twitched and Dan fanned the hammer with his palm, firing four shots in quick succession, one kicking up a little cloud of dirt just inches from the cat’s tail. It leapt into the air with a yowl and vanished into the brush.
Heart pounding, Dan lowered the pistol as the shots died away among the hills.
That had been a near thing, but the cat was gone now, and it wouldn’t cross his path. He was safe.
Twigs snapped and he came to his senses. He twisted around and broke open the gun, but two men were already emerging from the trees. One of them had his rifle trained and the other brought his up even as Dan tipped his empty shells out.
The latter was his age, with a trimmed mustache and clothes not meant for the woods. The former was older, bearded, and rougher-looking; he handled the rifle like he knew how to use it. The younger one, not so much.
“Be still,” the older one warned.
Dan scowled and obeyed.
“Just lay that pistol down.”
Dan bent to do so.
“Keep those hands high, if you would,” the young one said.
There didn’t appear to be any hostility in these men. They looked more baffled than anything else. Dan saw their shortness of breath; the shots had brought them running.
They weren’t hunters or trappers clearly.
Dan raised his hands as they approached.
“Would you take your hat off?” the young one asked.
Dan lifted it, and both men looked taken aback at the sight of his hair.
“Are you Dan Karr?”
Dan shrugged at them. “Did you expect Kingsley himself to come?”
The two of them exchanged a look.
“I didn’t expect Dan Karr to be shooting like a drunkard off the side of the trail,” the older man admitted, keeping his rifle aimed at Dan’s chest.
“Have you been drinking?” the younger one asked curiously.
“ ’Course not,” Dan replied. “It’s only afternoon. Who are you?”
They exchanged another look.
“I don’t—I don’t see that our names would mean anything to you,” the younger one said hesitantly. “Did you perchance bring the money?”
“Why else would I come?”
“To kill us?” the older man grunted.
Dan had, in fact, planned on doing that, but it didn’t seem wise to own to it.
“Kingsley said to pay, so I’m paying,” he lied.
“But why were you shooting?” the younger man pressed.
“ ’Cause I felt like it. You taking the money or not?” Dan snapped.
“Where is it?”
“Right there.” Dan indicated with his eyes.
The older man’s hands were steady. He kept Dan covered while his friend went through the saddlebags. On a luckier day, Dan might’ve found the look of shock on the younger man’s face gratifying.
“My goodness,” he said, marveling at the bundles of notes.
“Ain’t you never seen money before?” Dan asked, irked.
“Not so much. Outside a bank,” the other man added.
“Two of you ain’t much practiced at ransoming, are you?”
“Frankly, I expected George to try something. To send more men or not to provide the money.” The younger man shrugged, tucking the money into his satchel. He paused, biting his lip and gazing at Dan thoughtfully. After a long moment, he glanced at his companion. “That went easily.”
“It certainly did,” the older man replied. His rifle hadn’t moved an inch.
“Miller is a wanted man,” Dan mused. “Y’all know him. And you are here by yourselves. Is this like rats getting off a sinking ship? You two ride with him? Or you used to? You worked that Croshank Mine?” Of course, nobody had worked the Croshank Mine.
“A keen insight,” the younger man said with a smile. He cocked his head. “Is it true that George employs no other protection? None but you? I find it difficult to believe.”
“Mind your business,” Dan said.
“Sir, you just asked us an intrusive question. Can I not ask one as well?”
“Hell no.”
The two men exchanged another look. The older one’s eyes turned wary.
“What’s in your head?” he asked his companion.
“You have to see it. The entire reason we were leery of approaching was this man. We now have him,” the younger one said, gesturing at Dan.
“We also got ten thousand dollars,” the older one replied.
“We could double it if we deliver George. Put your hands out, Dan Karr, that I might tie them.”
“No,” the older man said sharply. “Get that coat off him. Make sure he’s got no more pistols or knives.”
Dan slowly removed his coat and handed it over while the younger man inspected him from in front and behind.
“He has a knife,” he said, taking it off Dan’s belt and putting it on his own. “That appears to be all.”
“Fine,” the older one grunted.
“Dan Karr, why don’t you take a stroll with us?” the younger man said, beckoning.
A spark of reluctance had flashed in the older man, but it had gone out just as quickly. He seemed content to go along with his companion. That was a pity; these two were greedy. In Dan’s mind, they should’ve just tied him to a tree and taken the money. But no, they wanted more. Well, why not take Kingsley’s money, then get their hands on Kingsley himself for more?
Dan reckoned ten thousand dollars split two ways for an easy day’s work would’ve been enough for most men, but these two had been a part of Kingsley’s scheme at the mine. They’d seen big numbers before and gotten a taste for them by the sound of things.
Kingsley’s old friends didn’t have any rope. They tied Dan’s hands in front of him with his own belt. Dan had never been in the business of taking other people prisoner, but it seemed to him to make more sense to tie the hands behind someone. It made him wonder what kind of work these men did.
“What do y’all do, when you ain’t bothering me?” he asked as they marched him up the hill, leaving Petunia back there on the trail. At least the older one had picked up Dan’s Schofield instead of letting it lie in the grass.
“We are gentlemen of leisure,” the younger man replied. He was struggling with the climb, so it sounded like there was some truth in that, but it also wasn’t really an answer.
These men and Aaron Miller—they were a gang, but not like any gang Dan had ever known before. Miller—Miller was no leader, and neither were these two. They worked for somebody else, or they had before they struck out on their own for this misguided venture. So Miller had never been the one to want Kingsley dead; he’d been the one put in charge of getting him.
Kingsley likely knew who his real enemy was, but that hardly mattered now. Dan had more immediate things to consider.
“It’s been years,” Dan complained as they climbed. “Why not take the money and let it go?”
“Men hanged because of George Kingsley,” the older man said over his shoulder.
