The Lawman

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The Lawman Page 6

by G. Michael Hopf


  Travis appeared behind him. “I see your thoughts plague you again.”

  Jolted back to the present, Isaac turned around and said in a stutter, “I-I, um, yes, I’m just thinking about the long ride.”

  Patting him on the shoulder, Travis said, “It’s the woman, isn’t it?”

  Shaking his head, Isaac answered, “No, it’s not.”

  “I once knew a girl named Mary back in Austin. A real sweet thing, knew her before the war. At the time I thought we could possibly get married, but then Lincoln called up those volunteers, and before I knew it, Texas had seceded and I was off to war.”

  “Did she marry someone else?” Isaac asked.

  “Oh no, nothing like that. Poor Mary died of typhus.”

  Shocked, Isaac said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I was sorry to receive that news too. The sorrow of it all is I didn’t know she had died until ten months after her death. The damn Confederacy’s mail service was the worst.”

  “Ours was pretty bad too.”

  Drifting off in thought, Travis could see Mary in his mind’s eye. Shaking off the painful memories, he said, “You ready to head out?”

  “I am,” Isaac said.

  “Good man,” Travis said. He turned but stopped and looked back. “I look forward to getting to know you more once we get to Bane. It will be nice to swap some war stories. I’m sure we faced off in more places than Gettysburg.”

  “I’m sure we did too,” Isaac said with a fake smile stretched across his face. He hated that Travis wished to get to know him more. He wanted nothing but the opposite, and that was to be as far away from him as possible.

  WILKES’ OFFICE, BANE, NEVADA

  Quincy paced his office, reciting a speech he was about to deliver to a group of investors he was trying to convince to give him the balance of the money he needed to acquire an adjacent plot of land next to Bane. He’d sent out teams of men recently to scout several plots, and this one appeared to have the ore he was looking for. If he could get it, it would set him up as a rival to Mortimer and the town of Bane. He wanted nothing more than to own an operation like that; being the proprietor of various small businesses wasn’t enough for him.

  A tap on the door pulled him away from his thoughts. “Yes.”

  Marcus stepped into the room and closed the door.

  Stopping his back and forth, Quincy asked, “What do you want? I’m busy here.”

  “I thought you should know that the shipment of silver we hijacked was stolen early this morning,” he said stoically.

  “Excuse me?”

  “We lost the silver,” Marcus said.

  “How is that possible? You said we had adequate security,” Quincy said.

  “We did, more than enough…”

  “It clearly wasn’t enough, damn it,” Quincy howled. “I needed that silver to help with my position on the parcel of land and the mining company. Damn it all to hell!”

  “I’m sending out a few men to scout for where it went and who did it,” Marcus said.

  Quincy rushed over to Marcus and jabbed his index finger into his hard muscular chest. “Find that silver!”

  Marcus looked down at Quincy and at his finger.

  Sensing that Marcus didn’t like being touched, Quincy stopped and took a few steps back. “Are you going to be able to find my silver, or do I need to get someone else to do it?”

  “I’ll find it,” Marcus said.

  “When you catch who took it, I want their head, I mean that literally,” Quincy barked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now go,” Quincy grunted.

  “I also got word from a contact in Elko; the new sheriff is en route. I’ll take care of him before he arrives,” Marcus said.

  “Good, and don’t mess that up, you understand me?” Quincy growled.

  Marcus simply nodded then turned and exited the office.

  When the door closed, Quincy walked to his desk and shoved the items that sat on it onto the floor. “Damn it!”

  CORRIGAN MINING COMPANY OFFICE, BANE, NEVADA

  Edwin stopped just before knocking on Mortimer’s office door. He had more bad news to deliver and pondered if telling him was prudent.

  The door opened abruptly, startling Edwin.

  “What are you doing hovering at my door?” Mortimer asked, his brow furrowed.

  “I was just about to knock, sir,” Edwin said, clearing his throat.

  “Walk with me. I’m headed to the bank to sign some documents,” Mortimer said and pushed past Edwin and down the hall.

  Edwin turned and followed Mortimer outside.

  Rushing across the bustling street, Mortimer asked, “What did you need to see me about?”

  “Sir, I received word that Quincy Wilkes has four wealthy businessmen arriving on November 1. They’re coming in on the stage from Carson City,” Edwin replied.

  “He does, does he?” Mortimer asked, his pace increasing to get past a horse coming his way.

  “Yes, sir, and the word is these men are coming to invest in a plot of land adjacent to Bane to the south. It’s approximately two thousand acres.”

  Arriving at the bank door, Mortimer stopped and asked, “And what does Mr. Wilkes want with this land?”

  “My source has told me that he’s found deposits of ore,” Edwin answered.

  “Where is this land, and who’s selling it?” Mortimer asked.

  “Sir, I’ll try to get that to you later,” Edwin replied.

  “Good, because I want to see it as soon as you can,” Mortimer said. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, one more thing, where did you want me to have the new sheriff live?” Edwin asked.

  “Where the old sheriff lived,” Mortimer said.

  “Sir, you let the old sheriff’s family stay there after his death. Don’t you remember?”

  Mortimer rubbed his chin, his mind spinning over past conversations. “I think I vaguely recall.”

  “I can set him up in the hotel until I find a house,” Edwin said.

  “No, don’t do that. Give him the downstairs suite in my house. I want to keep him close for a while, get to know him. That’ll give you time to find adequate housing for him,” Mortimer said.

  “Very well, sir,” Edwin said.

  “If that’s it, I need to go see the bank manager,” Mortimer said.

  “That’s it, sir,” Edwin said.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Who is this source?”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “You referenced a source. Who is it, and how come they know about Mr. Wilkes’ business dealings but can’t confirm if he’s the one behind the robberies and other mayhem in town?” Mortimer asked.

  “I don’t think it’s prudent to give away his identity,” Edwin said.

  “Edwin, you work for me, and that means you divulge all you know. I don’t have time now, but I expect to know who this source is tomorrow. Do you understand? I also want you to dig further into this parcel of land Wilkes is trying to acquire.”

  “Yes, sir,” Edwin said.

  “Good, now go back to the house and make sure that Phyllis has the room ready for our guest and inform Lucy we’ll be having the new sheriff staying with us for the next few days,” Mortimer ordered.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll get right on it,” Edwin said, nodding before rushing off.

  Mortimer liked the idea of having Travis at his house for a few days. This would give him the ability to have in-depth conversations with the man and get to know him better.

  TEN MILES NORTHWEST OF BANE, NEVADA

  Travis looked back over his shoulder and could see Isaac waning, as was Connor. They were so close, but he knew his traveling partners were hurting. He slowed his horse to a stop and called out, “Shall we stop for a few hours?”

  “How much farther?” Isaac asked.

  “I’m guessing about eight to ten miles since we’re close to entering the pass up the mountains,” Travis replied.

  “I
could use a break,” Connor said, catching up to Isaac.

  “But we’re close, let’s see this through,” Isaac said to him.

  “Fine, let’s take a break here for a couple of hours then finish. We should make it to Bane by midnight,” Travis said, dismounting.

  Isaac and Connor rode up.

  “Are you sure? I would rather just suffer through these last miles and get there earlier,” Isaac said.

  Slowly getting off his horse, Connor moaned. “Sorry, but my arse needs a break from this saddle.”

  Isaac’s butt and back hurt as well, but he was serious when he said he just wanted to finish the ride.

  Travis secured his horse to a stake and removed its saddle along with his other gear.

  Connor followed his lead.

  Relenting to the fact he was going to be taking a break, Isaac got off his horse and tied it up. He gave his horse some water and hitched up the feed bag.

  Plopping to the ground hard, Connor grunted. “Oh, my aching arse.”

  “We don’t need a fire. Let’s relax, stretch our backs and set out at sunset,” Travis said, taking a seat and leaning against his saddle.

  Isaac joined the two, setting his kit next to Connor. The two sparked up a casual conversation, which went on for a few minutes. When they noticed Travis was unusually quiet, they looked over and saw he was sleeping.

  “Looks like he might have needed the rest more than us.” Connor chuckled.

  “If you want to catch some sleep, go ahead. I’ll stay awake,” Isaac offered.

  “Tell me, what did you do?” Connor whispered.

  “Do? What are you referring to?” Isaac asked.

  “To go to prison?” Connor asked, keeping his voice just above a whisper.

  Isaac’s face turned stern. He shot a look over at Travis then back at Connor. “Keep your voice down.”

  “It is down; that’s why I’m whispering,” Connor said.

  “I’m not talking about this now or ever with you,” Isaac growled under his breath.

  “I accidentally killed a man in a pub. Hit him over the head with a pint glass, but it wasn’t the hit that killed him. The poor bastard fell backwards and impaled his temple on a nail that was jutting out of the corner of the bar,” Connor said. “He said something about my mother, and I don’t take kindly to anyone’s mother being mentioned in a derogatory fashion, especially my own,” Connor said, taking his flask from his pocket. He unscrewed the top and handed it first to Isaac, who waved it away, then took a swig. After wiping his mouth, he continued, “I was jailed for three years. Upon my release, I set sail for America.”

  “I suppose you’re lucky to be alive,” Isaac said, referring to the death penalty for killing.

  “I was, the bastard happened to be the town agitator. Fortunately for me, no one liked him, specifically the judge whose daughter the man had bedded some six months before that.” Connor laughed.

  “They let the judge hear the case?” Isaac asked.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t they?”

  “On account that he was clearly prejudiced,” Isaac replied.

  “You’re clearly not aware of how small the village I came from is. He was the only judge around for a hundred miles. Anyway, the rotten bastard deserved what he got. I was heralded a hero as such, but regardless of my newfound status in the village, I didn’t want to go back to that life. Upon hearing my family—including my mother, whose honor I had defended that day—went to America, I had to join them.”

  “They abandoned you?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call it abandonment, no. Their coming to America allowed me to leave that vile place with hopes and dreams of a better life,” Connor said, taking a swig. “How did your family take it when you went away?”

  Scowling at Connor, Isaac shot a look at Travis again, this time noticing he was now snoring slightly.

  “You were serious, weren’t ya?” Connor asked.

  “I was, I’m not saying anything about anything,” Isaac said.

  “Did you kill someone?” Connor taunted.

  “No, I didn’t kill anyone,” Isaac fired back.

  “Robbery? Wait, you’re a smart man, schooled no doubt at a good institution, I’d say it must have been some sort of crime involving money. Did you get creative with accounting?”

  Isaac jumped to his feet and walked off. He didn’t want to listen to Connor taunt him.

  “Oh, c’mon. Keep your head, would ya!” Connor yelped.

  Isaac waved his hand, dismissing Connor. He walked to a large boulder and climbed on top of it. From there he had a nice vantage point of the long sloping valley to the north and south of him. He could now see that for the past few hours they had been riding up a long and gentle incline. He spun his head around and looked at the foothills and mountains beyond. Soon they’d be headed up a long and winding trail to the town of Bane, which sat at an elevation of forty-three hundred feet. He didn’t know what to expect upon his arrival in town, but he was anxious to get there, not only to see Lucy but to get away from both Travis and Connor.

  FIVE MILES NORTHWEST OF BANE, NEVADA

  “It’s a good thing there isn’t a full moon.” Connor chuckled.

  “Why’s that?” Isaac replied.

  “On account that to the right, it’s a thousand-foot drop,” Connor answered.

  Hearing that, Isaac pulled the reins of his horse and navigated it to the left side of the trail. He looked to his right and could make out a drop-off under the light of the half-moon but couldn’t see the bottom.

  “It’s not that far down,” Travis said. “I reckon it’s maybe a few hundred feet.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better. You can die from a hundred-foot fall just the same as a thousand-foot fall,” Isaac said.

  “Listen, just take it slow and trust your horse,” Travis said.

  A loud clang sounded as a couple of items fell from Isaac’s horse.

  “What was that?” Travis asked, slowing his horse to a stop.

  Isaac looked back but couldn’t see. “I think something fell off my horse. It might have been my canteen and the feed bag. I hastily tied them to the saddlebags just before leaving.”

  “Well, go get them,” Travis said.

  “You go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Isaac said, dismounting.

  “No, we’ll wait,” Travis said.

  “If I get off the horse, I’m not sure I can get back on again,” Connor said, complaining about his sore muscles.

  “No, please go ahead. I’ve got to take care of some other business too,” Isaac said, walking back to find his canteen on the ground.

  “He means he has to have a bowel movement.” Connor laughed.

  “We’ll go ahead. Just holler when you’re coming,” Travis said, turning his horse and trotting up the trail.

  “I’m a jealous man. I haven’t had a movement since Elko,” Connor joked before trotting off.

  The two rounded a corner and disappeared out of view.

  Isaac kicked the dirt and small rocks around him, looking for the feed bag. “Where are you?” He spotted something dark near the edge of the trail. He walked over, stopping suddenly when he noticed the feed bag was literally at the edge of the drop-off. He cautiously bent down and picked it up. Stepping away from the edge, he looked around for anything else.

  A volley of gunfire erupted up the trail ahead of him. Frozen from the shock, he stared down the dimly lit trail.

  Another volley of gunfire followed.

  This time he acted. He ran to his horse, climbed on, and ripped his Colt from his holster. He cocked it then kicked the horse with his spurs, driving it forward.

  The horse lunged ahead and sprinted towards the gun battle that was now raging, as he could hear Travis and Connor returning fire.

  Connor howled in what sounded like pain then went silent followed by an eerie silence.

  Isaac rounded the corner but couldn’t see anything. He nudged the horse more forcefully. “Go!”

>   The horse responded by opening up its stride.

  The turn ahead was shaped like an S. When Isaac came out of it, he saw a dark mass lying in the trail with some movement in front of it. He called out, “Travis, is that you?”

  The dark mass stopped.

  A crack of a weapon sounded.

  Isaac could hear the round ball whiz by him. He raised his Colt, took aim and squeezed. The pistol fired, launching a .44-caliber round ball towards the mass. He heard the round hit whoever it was. They dropped to the ground.

  Another crack of a weapon came from above him.

  Like before, the round traveled just past him. He looked and saw movement. He cocked the pistol, aimed and fired. Again his aim was true, and the round ball struck the man. Seeing two more above him, he cocked and fired.

  “Let’s get, c’mon,” a man cried out from the rock outcropping above the trail.

  Isaac looked, but it was very difficult to see. He could hear what sounded like two men running above him on the rocks but couldn’t see them. He sat in the saddle, ready to engage, but didn’t as the footfalls grew more distant then disappeared.

  Frantic, Isaac swiveled his head around, looking for anything or anyone that could be a threat but found nothing but the cold dark night. He uncocked his Colt before dismounting. On the ground he went to the first person he saw, not knowing who it was until he was a foot away. “Connor?” he called out. He knelt down and felt Connor’s neck to see if there was a pulse. Finding one, he said, “How bad are you hurt?”

  “I fell,” Connor replied, his voice sounding groggy.

  “Are you shot?” Isaac asked, checking for any wounds.

  “I don’t think so,” Connor answered, staring up into the starlit sky. “They shot my horse out from underneath me. I toppled off it and struck my head on a rock.”

  Isaac felt the back of his head. “You’re bleeding.”

  “I must have cut my head open,” Connor said. “That’s odd.”

 

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