The Loner 10, page 11
Blake Durant touched his shoulder and when Bromage looked up, he said, “He has no chance.”
“But we’ve got to look. Hell, we can’t leave him lying down there to suffocate, die slow, maybe hurt bad.”
“I checked when I came up. Gilbert’s charges exploded too deep. There’s a cavern under there and soon this whole slope will collapse. As for gold, if it’s there, nobody will ever get it.”
Curly Bromage still knelt there. Warlow came up and made his own inspection but then went off and made up a brush torch. Holding it down into the hole he and four other men peered down. But although the torch lit up the edges of the hole the light could not penetrate down into the depths.
Warlow let the torch fall into the hole and standing, said, “Guess Durant’s right. Means all this misery has been for nothing. How many men were killed here?”
Nobody answered him.
May Soncum came up the slope and stopped just in front of Blake Durant. There were tears in her eyes. But then Curly Bromage came up and laid a hand on her shoulder. May turned, startled, and Bromage looked past her at Durant. He then extended his hand.
“You’ll be pushing on, Durant?” he asked.
Blake thought about that a moment then studied the tearful May again. “I hadn’t made up my mind until now,” he said. “But I have my horse and all trails are open again. You’ll make it, Bromage?”
Curly Bromage smiled and glanced at May Soncum. “I reckon I might if I take a nurse along, Durant,” he said.
Blake shook his hand and put up Torp Berry’s gun. He looked off into the distance where towering peaks reached up to the clouded sky. The air became suddenly cooler and he sniffed and thought he could smell rain. Turning, he collected Sundown and swung up. When he rode back, he saw May standing on her own, looking puzzled.
Sensing the reason for her uncertainty, he said, “A man looks for a woman who loves him. Bromage has been doing his looking, too.”
May shook her head. “But Hopgood and—”
“No,” Blake cut her off. “None of that matters. Good luck.”
May brushed the tears from her face. “You’re a strange man, Mr. Durant,” she said.
But even as she spoke Blake Durant was riding off, heading out on a trail to nowhere.
He rode, a lonely figure, into the sun.
About the Author
Sheldon B. Cole was one of many pseudonyms used by prolific Australian writer Desmond Robert Dunn (6 November 1929-5 May 2003). In addition to four crime novels published under his own name, Des was a tireless western writer whose career spanned more than fifty years and well in excess of 400 oaters. These quick-moving, vivid and always compelling stories appeared under such pen-names as Shad Denver, Gunn Halliday, Adam Brady, Brett Iverson, Matt Cregan, Walt Renwick and Morgan Culp. He is also said to have written a number of the ever-popular Larry Kent P.I. novels, but at this late date author attribution is almost impossible. He married and divorced twice, and had three children. He died at the age of 73 in Brisbane, Queensland.
The Loner Series by Sheldon B. Cole
Where Guns Talk
Trail to Nowhere
Boothill is Anywhere
Brand of the Forgotten
Kill or Hang!
Outcast County
Somewhere – A Sundown
Die, Damn You, Die!
Losers Die Fast
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Sheldon B. Cole, The Loner 10
