“Are you going to inform your police?” Everett asked.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Mortimer said, grabbing his coat and hat.
“I wish to come,” Everett said, racing past Lucy to meet Mortimer at the door. “We need to catch this escaped convict and hang him from the nearest tree.”
“He’ll be dead before a noose ever found its way around his neck because I’m going to kill him with my bare hands,” Mortimer growled. He opened the drawer of the table in the foyer and removed an 1860 Navy Colt. He shoved it in his waistband, opened the door, and exited the house.
Everett was right behind him.
When the door closed, Lucy began to sob uncontrollably.
Phyllis went to her side and began to console her. “I know it might seem you’re in a heap of trouble, but times like this come and go. Just know that I’m here for you.”
“What have I done?” she sobbed.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, ma’am. That man of yours, the old fiancé, it’s his fault; he came here.”
“I don’t know what I’ll do,” Lucy cried.
“Come here, cry on my shoulder,” Phyllis said.
***
Outside, Mortimer didn’t bother to go to his barn to get horses. By the time he’d have them saddled, he would already be sitting in front of Wallace.
Trailing just behind him, Everett pounded away on the point that Isaac must be caught and how he was a very dangerous man.
“We’ll catch him, Everett, that I can assure you, and when we do, I promise you, I’ll kill him.”
SHERIFF’S OFFICE, BANE, NEVADA
“I don’t give a damn. Pull everyone you have, everyone! I want him found!” Mortimer yelled, his voice cracking.
Wallace nodded and said, “I’ll get everyone on it, sir.”
“I mean everyone. Pull every deputy you have; put out a reward, I don’t care. I want him found, and I want him in that cell there by the end of the day,” Mortimer howled.
Overhearing the commotion, Quincy shouted, “Ha, your sheriff was a wanted man? This is too rich.”
“You shut your mouth, or I’ll have one of my deputies put a bullet in you,” Mortimer barked.
“The great Mortimer Corrigan hired an escaped convict to be the sheriff of Bane. Wait until word gets out about that,” Quincy fired back.
Unable to control his temper, Mortimer pulled his pistol, cocked it, and walked up to the cell where Quincy was being held. “Keep your filthy mouth shut!” he screamed.
“Or what? You gonna shoot me? That’s murder,” Quincy shot back.
All eyes were on Mortimer and what he was going to do. While he was an even-tempered man, he didn’t like to be challenged. He’d never escalate a situation to a fight; he would just find another way to get back at someone who crossed him. But that was how Mortimer normally handled things; today was not normal.
Everett approached and said, “Ease up, Mortimer. You don’t want to do something you can’t take back.”
“Listen to the old man.” Quincy cackled.
“I’ll…” Mortimer roared, his jaw pressed tightly closed. His entire body was tense, causing his right arm to shake as he held the Navy Colt, its muzzle pointed at Quincy’s head.
“You won’t do anything,” Quincy again spat.
Mortimer’s finger was on the trigger and applying pressure.
“Please, son, don’t do this,” Everett said.
Everyone in the room was frozen in anticipation of what Mortimer would do.
Taunting him, Quincy walked towards Mortimer and pressed his face against the bars, the muzzle now inches from his face. “Go ahead, shoot me in front of all of these witnesses.”
“Sheriff Wallace, send everyone outside. Start looking for Isaac Grant, aka Sheriff Travis,” Mortimer ordered.
“Right now, sir?” Wallace asked.
“Yes, right now!” Mortimer yelled.
Everett turned to the hovering group of deputies and said, “You know what he looks like. Now you heard Mortimer, start looking for him.” He waved and pushed people towards the door.
Wallace remained, his gaze on the tense scene near the cell.
“Sure, get them to leave. If I’m found dead, they’ll still know you did it,” Quincy taunted.
“Sheriff, when is it legal to shoot a man?” Mortimer asked.
Hearing the question, Everett did an about-face and came back. “What are you doing?”
“Everett, get away from me,” Mortimer snapped. “What’s the answer, Sheriff?”
“In self-defense or in the defense of others,” Wallace answered.
“Open Wilkes’ cell door and hand him a pistol,” Mortimer ordered.
“This is not a good idea,” Everett said.
“I agree, this is a very bad idea,” Wallace said.
“Do I have to fire you too?” Mortimer asked.
Giving in to Mortimer’s bloodlust, Wallace stepped up and said, “Mr. Corrigan, it’s just us now. If you want to shoot him, I’ll back up your story.”
“You will?” Mortimer asked, giving him a quick glance.
“This is lunacy,” Everett howled, finding it hard to believe he was about to witness his son-in-law murder an unarmed man.
After hearing what Wallace said, a look of fear washed across Quincy’s face. “You’re going to let him kill me in cold blood?”
“I can’t be a part of this,” Everett said and promptly left.
“It’s just us now, Mr. Corrigan,” Wallace said into Mortimer’s ear.
Terror now gripped Quincy as he cowered in the corner. “You’re the sheriff. You can’t let him shoot me.”
“Mr. Wilkes, watch me,” Wallace said with a smile on his face. “And do you know why I’m fine with this? Because you had my friends killed, you did. You don’t deserve to be alive.”
A devilish grin now stretched from ear to ear on Mortimer. He closed his left eye, aimed and squeezed the trigger. The .36-caliber round ball burst from the muzzle, striking Quincy in the face.
“Good shot,” Wallace cheered.
Quincy toppled to the floor and began to crawl around. The round ball had entered just below his nose but didn’t exit out the back of his skull. Thick, dark red blood poured from the gaping hole in his face.
“Open the cell,” Mortimer said.
Wallace complied.
Mortimer entered, cocked the pistol, placed the muzzle against the top of Quincy’s head, and pulled the trigger.
Quincy’s body instantly went limp.
Mortimer shoved the pistol back into his waistband and said, “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll pay you a bonus for giving me the privilege of serving justice here today.”
“Why, thank you, sir,” Wallace said.
“Now shall we go find the old sheriff?” Mortimer asked.
MCCARTHY LIVERY AND STABLES, BANE, NEVADA
Duncan ran into the livery barn and slammed the door shut. He raced through, stopping at the last stall, where Connor and Isaac sat chatting about how to execute their plan. “Hey, boys, I thought you should know that the law is looking for the sheriff there.”
“Looking for me?” Isaac asked.
“I was just at the mercantile, and a couple of deputies came in. They asked around and said that you were wanted because you’re an escaped convict and that you’re not really a sheriff; that your name is Isaac Grant,” Duncan explained. “Is that true?”
“It is true, so what are you going to do about it?” Connor asked his brother.
“If I had the intention of doing something, I wouldn’t have come to warn ya,” Duncan answered.
“What should we do?” Connor asked.
“I’m not leaving without the silver and without trying one more time to convince Lucy,” Isaac said.
“Give it a break with the little lass.” Connor sighed.
“I’ll regret not going to see her again. I just need to confirm one last time,” Isaac said.
“Boys, there’s a goo
d chance they’ll come here looking for ya, and while I like ya, I don’t want you gettin’ me in trouble,” Duncan said.
“You’re throwing him out?” Connor asked.
“I am, little brother. I can’t risk my business suffering,” Duncan replied.
“Where will we go?” Connor asked.
“We?” Isaac said.
“I’m going with ya, well, as long as you’re still trying to get the silver,” Connor said.
“Now more than ever. If we can hide until just before the sun sets, the second shift in the mine lets out. That will set hundreds of hungry and thirsty miners loose in town,” Isaac said.
“Yes!” Connor countered. “We’re gonna get that silver.”
Isaac held out his hand.
Connor took it and they both shook.
“You’re a good friend, Connor,” Isaac said.
“I just want the silver, that’s my motivation,” Connor joked.
“You can hide in the dry storage. It’s a good spot,” Duncan said, taking them to the barn he used to store carriages and such.
“Where is it?” Connor asked, not seeing anything but dirt.
“I rarely go down in it, so it gets covered by dirt,” Duncan said.
“Why are you helping us, brother? Connor asked.
“’Cause we’re family. Now shut up and help me,” Duncan said.
Under Duncan’s direction, they moved several crates from a spot near the back. Grabbing a push broom, Duncan brushed away dirt until a rope cord appeared. He bent down, grasped it and pulled.
The earth cracked, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Help,” Duncan said, straining.
Connor and Isaac took hold and pulled.
Their combined effort was enough to lift the dirt-covered hatch. Underneath was a ladder that led into the darkness.
Loud banging came from the livery door, startling them. “We’re with the sheriff,” a deputy hollered.
“Go, get down there,” Duncan said. “I’ll let ya out just before the sun sets.”
“Thank you,” Isaac said.
“If something happens and I don’t come back, go get the silver and head to a place called Devil’s Fork, it’s directly south of here. Take the narrow trail that’s at the end of the silt mound. Head down that trail for about ten miles, you’ll come to a fork. If you go right, the trail widens. If you go left, it narrows further and goes down a dangerous set of switchbacks. At the end is Devil’s Fork,” Duncan explained.
“Be safe,” Isaac said then disappeared into the cellar.
Before Connor descended, Duncan grabbed him and said, “I’ll meet you there in the morning, at first light, with a wagon.”
“A wagon?” Connor asked.
“It’s for our share.”
“Will we not be traveling with him?” Connor asked, tilting his head in the direction of Isaac.
“I’m coming with ya, baby brother, but I don’t want to journey with your friend past the Devil’s Fork. I say we head to Mexico or maybe even Texas,” Duncan said.
Tears wet Connor’s eyes, knowing his brother was on his side. “Love you, brother.”
Duncan lowered the heavy door, pushed dirt and hay over it, then set a few crates on top to help camouflage it.
The banging at the door continued.
“I’ll be back, brother,” Duncan said and raced to the livery door.
BANE, NEVADA
From building to building they searched for Isaac but couldn’t find him. However, they did get credible information that he had been there up until an hour before searching. This meant that either he hadn’t been found or was heading away. The one piece of information that also came in was that Isaac had been seen with Connor, making Duncan a suspect. He was now being held for questioning.
With nothing to show for their hours of searching, Mortimer gathered his men and the many volunteers hoping to get the hefty bounty placed on Isaac’s head.
Looking at the fifty plus men gathered, Mortimer hollered, “We’ve searched the town, almost every square inch. We now must consider that he’s fled the town and is out there!” He pointed out to the hills beyond. “We’re going to get four teams together. One will head north, another south and so forth. I want every able-bodied man on this; pull them from everywhere. I only want to have a skeleton crew left here to walk the streets looking. Now Sheriff Wallace here will assemble the teams and, Sheriff, I mean everyone, pull everyone but a few bodies.”
Wallace nodded then pulled Mortimer aside. “Mr. Corrigan, do you really mean everyone?”
“Yes, pull every able-bodied person. I don’t want people standing around. Those who stay will be on watch in the streets.”
“Everyone? Even security and guards at the mine?” Wallace asked, attempting to get clarification.
“Damn it, Sheriff, is English a second language for you? I said everyone. Finding Isaac Grant is this town’s, your office’s top priority,” Mortimer barked.
Everett watched on, proud of Mortimer and the forceful approach he was taking.
“Yes, sir, I’ll pull everyone for the search,” Wallace said and ran off.
“You’re doing a damn good job. You run this town very efficiently. I’m proud of you,” Everett said, draping his arm over Mortimer’s shoulder.
“That’s nice of you to say. It’s not been easy.”
“You don’t know this, but I’m a forgiving man. I’m strict, I also hold people accountable, but you’re dealing with this strongly. I wouldn’t have done what you did with that man in the cell, but like I said, I’m a forgiving man.”
“That man was sabotaging this operation and had murdered eight men; half of them were deputies. He needed to suffer the consequences. This is my town, my laws.”
“Like I said, you’re handling this with strength. I’m impressed,” Everett said, and he was serious. Though he personally wouldn’t have killed Quincy, he might have had someone else do it. What impressed him the most with Mortimer was how he didn’t mind getting his own hands dirty. He’d never seen Mortimer in this light, and it was refreshing to know his daughter was with a man of power and determination.
“Will you ride with me?” Mortimer asked Everett.
“It would be my honor,” Everett answered.
“Then let’s go ready the horses,” Mortimer said.
MCCARTHY LIVERY AND STABLES, BANE, NEVADA
“Where is he?” Isaac asked, concerned.
“I fear my brother is in trouble. I need to go find him,” Connor said, pushing with all his might but barely budging the hatch.
“Let me help,” Isaac said, getting on the ladder next to him and pushing with all his might.
The hatch lifted, but they could tell some crates were on top.
“The daft fool put heavy crates on it,” Connor barked.
“Let’s try again on the count of three—one, two, three,” Isaac said.
The two used every ounce of strength they had and managed to get the hatch high enough that the crates slid off. They climbed out and lay on the floor, huffing and puffing.
A bell clanged in the distance.
“That’s the second shift ending,” Isaac said.
“That’s great and all, but I need to go find Duncan,” Connor said, getting to his feet.
Grabbing hold of his arm, Isaac said, “He told us to go ahead and that he’d meet us at dawn. Let’s go do this. Let’s go get that silver.”
Connor thought for a bit and said, “I know what my damn fool brother told us, but I’m going to go get him.”
“You can’t,” Isaac said.
“But we can stop to go get your Lucy?” Connor asked.
“You’re right. Let’s go find him,” Isaac said.
As they got to their feet, they heard the door creak open.
Looking up, they had nowhere to go, so left with no options other than fighting, Isaac grabbed a pickax handle and raised it.
In came Duncan out of breath. “Whoa, don’t hit
me with that.”
“Where have you been?” Connor asked, embracing Duncan.
“I told ya I was coming back. I was just a wee bit late on account the sheriff wanted to question me. Apparently they’re looking for you now too,” Duncan explained.
“And he let you go?” Connor asked.
“Yeah, they’ve all left town, gathered four large posses to go ride, but—”
“How will we leave with the silver?” Connor asked, cutting Duncan off.
“If you let me finish, I’ll tell ya,” Duncan said, giving Connor an annoyed look. “I told them I’d seen ya and that I gave ya two horses and that ya were riding to Elko to catch the train. So many of the posse headed off in that direction. The second word got out that ya two were headed that way, their four posses dwindled down. Some did go in the other directions, but most went west. And get this, I was sitting in the sheriff’s office and those deputies were arguing and bitter because they had been told to stay. Thing is, there’s a large bounty on your head, Sheriff, and so as not to be left out, they just took off and left me sitting there. I came outside to find that even the men they’d told to stay had departed. It turned into a bit of chaos. Ya should have seen Mr. Corrigan yelling and screaming for order, but what I told them spread like wildfire.”
“Brilliant,” Connor yelped.
“That is good news,” Isaac said.
“Oh, you like good news? I have even better news. They took everyone with them, and I mean everyone who could walk upright. That means they took the guards from the silver.” Duncan chuckled.
“Well, can you believe it?” Connor asked.
“Too good to be true,” Isaac said.
“It is true. That sheriff who took over for you is a real daft fella,” Duncan said with a big smile.
“Come, gentlemen, let’s go get that silver,” Isaac said.
MINE NUMBER TWO STORAGE, BANE, NEVADA
Just as Duncan had described, the town, minus the miners letting out, was empty of any deputy or guard. They simply walked into the storage, and there sat the covered wagon.
The Lawman Page 16