“You figured if they wanted to believe this was a bad place to stay, you’d make it as bad as you could.” Penny grinned. “The Chiltons treated me and mine like we were the dirt under their feet. I’d’ve made them sleep with the rats, too.”
“I know them, too. And they treat me the same.” John shook his head. Penny realized in their search for Payne, they hadn’t spent much time thinking about the Chiltons and John’s mission out here.
“What made them want to go out to Payne’s house?” John asked. “Had they heard of him? Were they on their way to his home?”
“Nope, they were just so snooty, and Payne’s mansion, well, I mentioned it just to goad them, to let them know there were plenty of fine rich folks about. When they heard the word mansion, the woman’s eyes lit up. It was like she hoped that finally she’d find someone decent enough for her to talk to.”
Bolling looked down at the open register book with the Chiltons’ name clearly signed. “Payne is a man who likes his privacy. He guards that castle of his like he’s the king of that whole lake, and I’m surprised he didn’t build a moat around it. What he did do was put up the biggest, toughest fence I’ve ever seen. Solid rock, more than ten feet high. It took men years of hard work, all during the short good weather seasons, to get that fence up to suit Payne. They built the house first, using a road that comes in from Carson City. Then when the fence was up, they tore the road up and put boulders close up to narrow the road and downed trees, everything Payne could think of to make it real hard for folks to get in. It’s barely passable by a man on horseback.”
“He can’t even get in with a wagon? How does he get supplies?”
“A pack string mostly, but he built his house on a deep water shore, so he can get a fair-sized boat in if he needs something bigger than a horse can handle. That fence of his even reaches out into the lake. And he hires men to patrol his grounds and watch the trails with spyglasses, or at least that’s the rumor. I’ve never gone out there, except once to see the fence, just so I could see if the gossip was true.”
“And it is?” Penny asked.
“Yep, and he’s got these men, hard men, always on hand. They come into Ringo now and again to sit in the saloon and such, but they aren’t drinkers and they never come together. Folks are mighty careful in what they say about Payne when those three are in town. For that matter, folks’re cautious about Payne all the time. Men who get on his bad side tend to disappear.”
Penny thought of Payne’s dead partner, Logan. And Pratt, who lived away from his mine.
“Three of them?” John’s voice was calm, but Penny knew he’d heard that just as clearly as she had.
“Yep, a bad bunch. Word is, Payne wouldn’t trust them if he didn’t have to. He has a couple of local women come out to clean and cook for him. Daily help, they don’t live out there. When they came home the day the Chiltons headed up, it was with instructions to not come back until they was sent for. It’s just the Chiltons, Payne, and his three guards out there now.”
“Is there any gossip about Payne?” John asked.
“No one gossips about him. In fact, no one around has a word to say against Luth Payne. That whole outfit has a fearful hold on the town.”
“What about the sheriff? Is he afraid, too?” John watched Bolling’s face carefully.
“We don’t have no law in Ringo. There was talk of hiring a sheriff, but Payne put a stop to it.” Then Bolling quit talking beyond giving them directions, though he admitted he hadn’t told the Chiltons about the fence.
“I expected them back within an hour, once they saw the way that fortress is set up, but they never came. Payne either took them in or killed them. I can’t work up to going out to hunt for them. Figure I won’t find nuthin’ but trouble. I reckon that makes me a yellowbelly. Ain’t proud of it.”
John had more questions, but Bolling was done. He fidgeted like he was scared he’d said too much already.
Eyes and ears. Payne must have spies in Ringo, just like in Virginia City.
“We won’t tell anyone anything we’ve learned from you,” John said.
Bolling calmed a bit, but he told them no more, and considering how secretive Payne was, maybe Mr. Bolling didn’t know any more.
John nodded. “I think we’ll go see if we can find out what became of the Chiltons, and then have a talk with Luther Payne.”
Bolling nodded. “If you manage that talk, you’ll be the first. He’s a man of business and goes into Virginia City, but he ain’t a man to sit down to coffee and tell you about himself.”
Penny remembered the paint on the building that read Bolling’s Boardinghouse. It was long faded, to the point of being hard to read. That meant Bolling had been here awhile.
“Have you owned this boardinghouse long?”
Bolling nodded. “Came out heading for the California gold fields in ’50. I got stuck on this side of the mountains when winter caught us. I found a little color and settled on a claim near Virginia City. I never had a real taste for the madness, so I didn’t go on to California. I worked a claim here for a few years. Made enough to feed myself, then saw the men charging me for supplies getting rich while I scrimped. When the big rush came here, I opened a boardinghouse right by the Comstock Lode, and was gettin’ fat in the pocketbook for a while. Then one day, some big strike came in and the town threw a party the likes of which I’ve never seen. Came close to gettin’ myself killed trying to fight a pack of drunks busting up my place. Decided I liked life more than being rich. By then Lake Tahoe was drawing in tourists from San Francisco, so I came here. A much calmer crowd, tourists.”
Bolling looked around his modest boardinghouse with pride. “Ringo barely existed at the time, but it’s about as close as you can get to the lake on a good trail. I tucked away the money I had from Virginia City and used the least possible amount to open this place. No sense flashing money, it only draws thieves. I’ve been here for years. Married a fine woman and had a few youngsters. Makin’ a living, but not gettin’ rich. Not gettin’ killed neither, so I’m a contented man.”
“And has Payne been around all this time?” Penny thought of Raddo and their theory that Raddo and Payne were old partners. Raddo must’ve had some hold on Payne.
“Yep, a miner like the rest of us at first. But he kept making all the right deals.” Bolling glanced around him. They were completely alone. He whispered, “You swear you won’t repeat anything I tell you? Not to anyone?”
John said, “You have my word.”
“Mine too.” Penny nodded.
“Well, Payne’s got some partner in his mines, but he runs it. No one dares challenge him about anything. He started building his fortress ten years back. Now he’s only rarely seen out and about, but he’ll pay to hear of those who speak against him. Pay well. I’m only talking because I reckon I’m a coward, and that’s a shameful thing. I’ve got a young wife and four sons born too late in life for an old codger like me. If I’ve misplaced my trust in you, well, I’ve lived a long time, but what will become of them? I suppose someone else’d have the sense to marry her and take care of her, and she’s a fierce woman, she’d fight for her family.”
As he shook his head, his shoulders slumped, almost as if he expected the worst, and he said, “I’d rather have the conscience of an honest man than live to a doddering old age.”
“You really think you’ll die if word gets out you’ve spoken to us?”
“Yep, and I’m afraid you young folks are headed for a bad end. So, it’s a warning. You might want to let this go and leave that old surly wolf be. Word to the wise.” Then Bolling turned and walked away, leaving them in the small entrance of his boardinghouse.
“That’s a brave man.” Penny looked toward the door he’d taken into the back of the building. “He knows when it’s just common sense to be afraid.”
“I’d probably take his advice and leave Payne alone. Grab you and drag you back east with me. But it’s too late. He’s coming after us, and
there’s a good chance he’ll take on your brother next, then Trace and his outfit. We can stop Luther Payne, or we can be stopped, but I don’t think we can just leave it be. And considering the way he kidnapped us, it was already too late before we started.”
“Let’s go take a look at this mighty fortress Payne has built for himself. I wonder if we should tackle him ourselves or go get my brother?”
“Let’s go by ourselves first. That gives us a back-up plan . . . if we live to use it.”
CHAPTER
26
“I can’t believe you got a wire back already.” Trace scratched his head while Cam read the longest telegraph he’d ever gotten.
“It wasn’t that fast. I thought Sheriff Walters would keep asking questions all day.”
“He might’ve if Mayme Belle hadn’t come and dragged him off for dinner.” Trace had a look of wonder on his face.
Cam was pretty sure it didn’t have to do with the formidable Mayme Belle.
“I got stranded out here after my pa was killed in a wagon train massacre, years ago. You know that.”
“Sure I do. What’d you say it was, two or three years before you saw another human being?”
“Longer than that. I barely survived my first winter. I’ve been to town since then, mainly here in Dismal, but last summer I drove cattle over the Sierra Nevadas and then did some wandering. Saw the ocean, saw a big city. Still, I’ve lived a pretty quiet life. I can hardly imagine that you sent a telegram all the way across the country to Philadelphia and got an answer back the same day. It seems next thing to a miracle. It’s for certain a modern-day wonder.”
“Lots of telegraphs went up during the war, but it is a marvel, I reckon,” Cam said. “But we got lucky, too. No lines were down. And the man must live or work close to the telegraph office. And he had things to say about the Chiltons without having to do much asking around.”
“They’ve vanished, then?” Trace read the telegram again. “And they’ve left creditors behind howling about unpaid bills.”
“The interesting part is the money left to Delia, though.” Cam tugged the telegram away from Trace to read it again. “And tied up tight enough that the Chiltons couldn’t get their hands on it. Delia even owned the house they lived in. And the Chiltons managed to find a gullible banker who loaned them money against the house. But that’s even done now. The house is mortgaged up to the hilt so they’re out of ways to get money.”
“Not including getting a job,” Trace said dryly.
Cam shrugged. “They haven’t tried that yet, I reckon. Anyway, that’s why they wanted Delia back so badly, and why they’ve been after Ronnie. To get their hands on a fortune left by Florence’s mother. A wise woman who knew her daughter well and went to great lengths to protect the money from Florence. I’ll bet there’s a whole lot more to this, but it comes down to Ronnie being a rich little boy. No wonder the Chiltons moved so fast and spent so much to send John out here. They were probably hoping he’d get here and back with the boy before all their bills came due.”
Cam fell silent and met Trace’s eyes.
Finally, Trace asked, “Are we going to find the Chiltons when we backtrail the men who attacked us this morning?”
“I hope so.” Cam crushed the telegram in one gloved hand. “I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to them. Let’s ride.”
“Have you ever seen anything like that?” John looked at Penny as they stood at the base of a massive wall right where it went into Lake Tahoe.
“It makes the walls built around the army forts look like a child’s toy.” Shaking her head, Penny glanced behind them.
John followed the direction she was looking and saw their horses, up at the top of this steep slope, standing contentedly. The horses were going to have a tough time getting down here. Maybe a really bold, mountain-bred mustang like Trace’s black stallion could do it without breaking a sweat, but neither of them had such a horse.
“It had to take years.” John heard the wonder in his own voice. He’d heard of the Great Wall of China and had to wonder how this compared. “Bolling said it was huge, but I never pictured this.”
They’d gone down to the water’s edge. Now they turned and climbed up, not all the way back to their horses, but following along the wall.
“He cut the trees back thirty feet, too.” John couldn’t imagine it. None of this had been visible from the trail above. The wall and the stretch that’d been cut back were tucked deep behind a thick stretch of forest.
“How did he pay for all of this work?” Penny asked.
“He’s a wealthy man according to Bolling, and according to the folks back in Virginia City who dared to speak his name.”
“You can just see the treetops.” Penny pointed at where they started up, beyond the strip of cleared forest. “Cutting the trees back gives Payne a perfect field of fire. And no one can get high enough to see the house, which means no one can shoot from a distance.”
“The house might be visible from a boat on the lake.” John looked behind him.
“Something we don’t have.”
Which set John to thinking.
Penny interrupted the plotting going on in his head. “I’d say Luther Payne is a suspicious man.”
“Or a man with a lot to hide,” John suggested.
“Or one with dangerous enemies.”
“If we stay up right against the base of this wall, no one can see us.” John took a few steps along the wall that ran parallel to the shores of Lake Tahoe.
“What about our horses?”
John stopped and looked back. He frowned at Penny. “We won’t be gone long, will we?”
Penny looked down the long stretch of wall, then looked up, overhead. “If he’s got only three men, they have to take shifts so they can eat and sleep. And they can’t watch in three directions at once. If there was a watchtower, it’d have to be high enough we should be able to see it, and I didn’t.”
John’s eyes met Penny’s. He said, “I’ll go. Just calm as can be, I’ll walk over to the horses and lead them back here. If someone sees me, I hope they shout out a warning before they open fire.”
“Only if they don’t recognize you.”
“Yes, only then.”
“I’d better go with you.”
“Nope, no sense both of us being ducks in a shooting gallery.”
“But if I’m with you, I can shoot back, or you can. It makes it so they can’t just open fire on us with no risk.”
“Good point,” John said. “I’m starting to think you’re about the smartest, toughest wife a man can have.” He kissed her soundly and said, “Let’s go get those horses.”
They raced across the open stretch, and no one started raining down fire. Penny pulled her rifle out of the boot on her saddle. It took some work to lead the horses through the tight forest that sided the trail, but they made it to the open space and ran again.
John slammed his back against the wall, and the horses almost ran him over.
Penny said grimly, “Does it strike you that we had it a little too easy?”
“Cheer up, Mrs. McCall, I’m sure there’s a chance to dodge bullets in our immediate future. Now watch this wall for a gate. There has to be a way in.”
“There has to be a way in, but good grief, look at this thing.” Cam pulled back on his reins until his horse backed out of sight of any watchtowers atop this thing.
Once he was no longer visible to someone on top of the massive stone barricade, he said, “There’s gotta be something huge behind this wall.”
“Yep,” Trace said. “But they’re short three lookouts.”
“And with a short supply of guards, the wall blocks their view of us as surely as it blocks our view of them. Unless I miss my guess, we just turned three of the sentries over to the sheriff in Dismal.” Cam dismounted and walked back up to study the wall. “This reminds me of a fort. They usually had stockade walls with trees lashed tight together. This is stone, but the idea is
the same. A wall so strong and high no one can get over it.”
“There’s a way,” Trace said. “I’ll stash the horses, and we’ll move closer on foot.”
Cam slipped his rifle out of the scabbard on his saddle. Trace vanished into the heavy woods with the horses. While Cam waited for Trace, he checked his rifle and pistol to make sure they were fully loaded. They were, he knew that already, but a smart man got into the habit of checking his weapons.
Trace emerged from the dense forest. “Let’s scout around. Look for sentries, gates, handholds on the wall. These stones aren’t that smooth. We’ll get in.”
Cam and Trace set to work. Scouting, climbing, digging even—though they had no shovel. But poking with sticks convinced them the wall was sunk deep, so no shovel would help.
Trace got about eight feet off the ground climbing before he could go no farther.
Cam walked to the water’s edge and tried to wade out, hoping to get around the wall that extended out so far. But the icy water got deep so quickly he knew the location of the house . . . assuming there was a house behind this monstrosity of a wall . . . had been chosen to be impossible to reach by the water. Maybe with a boat or swimming—but Cam couldn’t swim.
They walked for a stretch and finally found themselves in front of a solid iron gate with no way to look through or climb up. Trace morosely sat down and leaned his back against it. “I wonder if he brings in supplies by boat? The water is deep enough.”
“Nothing of any size could get through that gate.” Cam studied the massive lock—for the tenth time. “A person or a rider could get through, but not a wagon.”
“The men we trailed got in and out. How did they signal someone to open the gate?”
“We went through their pockets. There was no key.” Cam’s time in the military had trained him to be thorough, so he’d had both of them check the pockets to be sure nothing was missed.
The Unexpected Champion Page 19