The Bitterroot Trail

by James W. Johnson

  "Cleveland," Plummer said furiously, "in spite of the fact that we've been partners a long time I'm liable to pistol whip you sometime, and don't forget it!"

  Cleveland was surprisingly cool. "Maybe, but not just now. You need my help too much. Don't forget that part of our followers are loyal to me, and you'll need these men on your side to carry out your plans."

  "Haven't I always given you an equal cut? And haven't we done twice as much since we joined forces?" Plummer demanded.

  "I'll admit that. But leave that gal alone!"

  Then abruptly Cleveland walked to his horse and mounted. "Come on, let's get away from here before someone comes burning lead after these mules."

  With a parting shot to Lee, Plummer followed Cleveland's lead. "Remember what I said, Lee; and don't figure Cleveland in our deal."

  They had just turned away when Three Finger Smith broke into an ugly laugh. "Say, fellers, did you ever hear o' the two dogs fightin' over a bone? 'Long comes another an, steals the shank an, runs."

  With a strange feeling of apprehension Dixie caught the meaning of his words. She determined to kill herself before she would be forced to marry either of them.

  The more she knew these wild men the more she despised them. Their only ambition in life was to steal, to murder, to plunder. Their only desire was to live off the labors of honest men. She knew what their end would be eventually, when order should evolve from this chaos. But they were already planning to undermine the coming government. What would become of them all?

  She feared most for Bob, even though she believed he had lied to her and tricked her. Her love could not be killed so easily, even though she felt she never wanted to see him again. Strange as it seemed, deep in her heart she wanted him to triumph over these men.

  She found herself wondering what Mrs. Ford looked like. Was she pretty? Was she good? Did he really love her for herself or through sympathy? "Oh, Bob!" she cried to herself, "why have you done this to me?"

  "Come on, gal." Three Finger Smith smiled evilly. "Whatcha moonin' about? Yore friend, Plummer? Yore right popular in this bunch. We'll cut cards fer yuh in the end."

  Without retort she mounted, and the caravan started down the trail toward Elk City, the beginning of an arduous adventure.

  14

  THE TRACKS IN THE COUNTRY WHERE BURKLEY had been killed revealed only that the mules had been stampeded and the band split. Both bands later hit the Elk City trail and headed toward Oro Fino. Neither Bob nor Shorty discovered where any had been turned back, but a count of the animals in Oro Fino showed that six of the best animals were missing. They found Burkley's dead horse in a little gully, and the tracks showed that he was shot standing still, as they could see the prints of his horse's hoofs where he had stamped about. Burkley's gun had never been fired.

  Bob shook his head. "Poor Burk didn't even have a chance to defend himself."

  It was almost noon when they finished their investigation and started back to Oro Fino.

  "Are you riding with me this afternoon, Shorty? I'm going to try to find out which way this gang went and follow it. When we catch up to them I think we'll find the mules all right."

  "Say, podner," Shorty avowed vehemently, "where yuh goes, I goes. Any game yuh takes a hand in I takes a hand in. Me, now, I think we'll put 'em on the run with their tails between their laigs."

  "Maybe you're right, Shorty. I believe most of the gang have deserted the lower country. But they've given us a bad break here. Now that Burk is gone only three of us are left; you and Jim and I. Jim will have to stay at the saloon to help look after things. I'm thinking we'll have to follow them into the Basin."

  As they galloped into town their eyes almost popped out at what they saw. Standing in front of the saloon was a band of heavily packed mules, while a throng of men were milling in and out of the resort.

  "Holy smoke, Bob! That'll be the Grimes bunch, headin' fer the Basin! Gee cracky! But wouldn't yuh like tuh trail along?"

  "Sure would, Shorty," Bob answered seriously, "but we can't go until our work is finished here. As long as Three Finger Smith and Plummer and Cleveland are here I'm staying. Besides, I've a feeling that Dixie's a prisoner with them some place."

  It was an excited bunch of men, about sixty in all, with perhaps a hundred pack animals. These were packed with provisions, picks, spades, iron bars, axes, augers, whipsaws, in fact, everything imaginable for carrying on the work of placer mining.

  Their talk of yellow gold was at white heat. When the word leaked out that the caravan going to the Basin had arrived, even the miners dropped their shovels and gold pans and came on the run to Ford's saloon. Many of them, even some who owned paying claims in Oro Fino, were ready to sell for a grubstake to take them to the Basin.

  Bob was offered two hundred and fifty dollars each for his pack mules, but refused to sell. He knew that sooner or later he would need them himself. As it was, he had only eight of the sixteen left.

  The men were imbibing freely, and Shorty slipped the word to Jack to hold the men in town all night if possible. He figured that if there were any of the Plummer Gang in the country they would hear about this and come in.

  While these frontiersmen were making merry in the big barroom, Bob, Jim, and Shorty went to bury Burkley. It was a sad duty for these hardriding men to bury another of their comrades. Burkley had been a man of few words but stuck faithfully to his duty and his friends.

  As soon as he was buried, the three Vigilantes decided never to mention the incident, except in discussing means for getting the men who were responsible for his death. Another life had been sacrificed to the building of the empire. Once again they grimly agreed to give their lives, if necessary, to carry out vengeance against the outlaws who were infesting the country.

  "Men," Bob said solemnly, "we are making history, even though it may never be written. We have more than the safety of the coming empire to fight for; we must avenge the death of our friends!" Bob's handsome face had become etched with fine lines in the past few months, lines showing will power and stamina that boded evil to opposition to his cause. "Shorty, better get the pack outfit ready. Two pack mules will be enough for this trip. Jim, we're trusting you to stay and keep an eye on things here."

  "Shore, Bob. We'll pack the mules. But yuh go upstairs an' get some sleep. Yore daid on yore pegs. Go on--yuh won't be worth a hoot if yuh don't. We'll find that gal, too, some place, an' that'll help yore mind some."

  Bob took his advice. He went up to Shorty's room and stretched out. He quickly succumbed to the necessity for sleep, nor did he awaken until the afternoon was almost spent. Shorty purposely let him sleep, preferring to face disfavor rather than have him break in the saddle.

  From the change in the shadows of the room when Bob awoke, he knew that he had been asleep for hours. The confusion in the barroom had subsided, and he knew the Grimes men had left town, and their plan of holding them had failed. He ran downstairs to find Shorty sitting at the lunch counter.

  "Say, you bungling dunce! What did you let me sleep my head off for? Don't you realize that we've got important business ahead? The trail will be so damned stale a hound couldn't follow it! We're hours late!"

  "Hold on, yuh double-haided polecat! If yuh hadn't got that sleep you couldn't even follered a trail a mile wide. Calm yoreself an' git yore hoofs under this table. I got a couple o' bull steaks comin' up. Everything's ready iffen yore boilin' tuh git out tuhnight."

  "Of course we're going to hit the trail tonight. The bunch's already got a day ahead of us, but if I figure right, they'll know the Grimes train's comin' and'll wait someplace to join them or trail them in. It's our only chance for quick action."

  They were almost through eating when the owner of the post across the street rushed in screaming frantically. "Come quick! Somebody help! They cleaned me out. Goddam 'em!"

  Bob and Shorty and the few people in the saloon rushed for the door. The man was still howling and calling down imprecations upon the thieves.
<
br />   "Shut up, you fool!" Bob commanded irritably, "what happened?"

  "Cleaned out of twenty thousand in dust, and they got clean away without me firing a shot! Two of 'em!"

  "Did you know 'em?" Shorty snapped.

  "I only knowed Plummer!" he wailed.

  Bob whirled. "Bring the pack mules and follow, Shorty! Which way'd they go?"

  "Out that way toward the Lolo Trail!" the man pointed excitedly.

  "That Elk City stuff was a ruse, Shorty; we might have known it. We'll get them this time."

  Shorty had already saddled their horses; the mules were packed and tied to the hitching rack. Bob boarded his horse on the run and left town in a cloud of dust. Shorty was hurriedly stringing out the pack mules when a shrill familiar voice called to him.

  "Shorty, you come right back here! You never kissed me goodbye!" Daisy stood in the doorway, hands on hips.

  "Aw, let somebody else do it, Strawberry. I got plenty o' business ahead. Take care o' the little strawberry roans." He quickly mounted and strung out.

  Bob picked up the trail readily. He could tell by the tracks that the fugitives were forcing their horses to the limit. Bob was wise. He knew that somewhere ahead they must have the pack animals and they would likely be waiting in some hidden coulee. He gave his horse free rein for two or three miles, then slackened his speed to search the trail for other fresh horse tracks. He made sure that they were still following the main trail and the distance between the prints in the trail told him they were still being pushed.

  It was growing dark in the shadows by now, and he found it necessary to slacken his pace more and more to keep the tracks in sight. He suspected they would soon pull off the main trail; might even back-track and wait in ambush for any followers. He must not be caught napping.

  At last he dismounted and searched for new sign. He noticed that the fugitives had slackened their speed. He knew their pack animals couldn't be very far away unless they intended riding most of the night. The pack animals could have had at most a day's head start. The whole thing, he knew, had been carefully planned, and he was sure there were more than two men in the outfit.

  The trail was now ascending through a steep canyon. Realizing the likelihood of an ambush, and being strange to the trail, he decided to wait for Shorty. His judgment told him it would be wise to camp and take the trail with the break of day.

  As night settled down the sky became overcast with heavy clouds and the atmosphere became unusually calm. Occasionally a streak of lightning far away scrolled an instant figure on the black canvas. The portending storm was discouraging, for once it broke, all trace would be blotted out; all hope of tracking them would be lost. By the time Shorty arrived with the pack outfit it was sprinkling.

  Bob spoke hurriedly. "Let's get into a clear spot and get the tent up. She's going to pour."

  "We can't make camp right on this trail, podner," said Shorty. "It would be a cinch fer them road agents tuh come back an' bushwhack us. We'll cross the creek up here a piece an' git in the shelter o' the heavy pines. Shore looks like fate's favorin' the scalawags tuhnight. Come on."

  The rain was coming down heavier now. The lightning blinded them for a moment. The thunder, like falling mountains, crashed about them. It began to pour. Hurriedly they forced the animals under the shelter of the trees and removed the packs. There was no time to hunt tent poles, so with their ropes they fastened the top ends of the tent to the trees and piled their packs inside. They picketed the two mules and horses; they didn't want the storm to stampede them. Then they went back and finished tying the corners of the tent to boughs and trunks of nearby trees. They lighted a candle and made their bed. They wouldn't try to make a fire. Supper was dispensed with. Gloomily they crawled in between the damp blankets.

  15

  THE DAWN BROKE CLEAR ON A WORLD WASHED clean, leaving behind no clue of the trail of the robbers. Bob was grim with angry determination this morning. No one had gone back down the trail in the night since the rain, and he was sure no sane man would have undertaken it during the storm.

  "We'll follow them this time with no stops," he told Shorty, who was getting breakfast over a small fire.

  Shorty had learned from the Indians that only fools build big fires. "Podner," Shorty volunteered, "I knows a short cut tuh Rattlesnake iffen this rain ain't plumb washed it away. I'm thinkin' them jaspers is headed for there. If yuh say so, we starts on that trail up the canyon a piece. I've only rid it twict, but we'll try it, iffen yuh say so. It cuts off quite a piece, maybe forty mile."

  "You bet we'll try it, you bow-legged puddle hopper. Let's throw these things together and get out of here. We've got a chance to cut them off yet. They won't travel fast now, for they'll be laughing up their sleeves, thinking the rain has blocked pursuit."

  They followed up the canyon for half a mile, then, where the trail wound around a long point of the mountain and up Elk Creek, they took off to the left. Bob couldn't see even a sign of a trail, but trusted to the faithful Shorty. The first half mile of going was hard, doubly so on account of the mud. One of the pack animals fell and rolled down the hill for a hundred yards, stringing the contents of the pack all over the landscape. They lost almost an hour's time gathering up the wreckage and getting the mule on the trail again. At last, reaching the summit, they stopped to look at the glorious sky just before the sun appeared over the distant Lolo Pass. Bob gasped in wonder. It looked like a holy halo of fire kissing the rim of the deep purple mountains.

  "Ee-dah-how! " breathed Shorty reverently. "Bob, I can see why the Injuns think the fire comes down on the mountains here. Jest look at that!"

  "Empire of Ee-dah-how!" Bob said wonderingly. "Shorty, it's a kind of vision of what is to come. Let's move on. We've already lost a lot of time."

  Slowly and with difficulty they descended the mountain side leading into the purple mists of the lower canyon trail. Bob could hardly make out any sign of trail, but like an Indian Shorty went on unhesitatingly, forging ahead at the best speed possible. While they were making poor time they knew the men they sought were making no better.

  All day they traveled, stopping at noon just long enough to eat. At night they camped within reach of Rattlesnake by a twelve-hour ride.

  Within twenty miles of Rattlesnake they ran out of the rain-flooded country, and a mile or two farther they came again into the Lolo Trail. It was impossible to determine whether their quarry had passed or not.

  It was dusk when they finally rode into the town of Rattlesnake. Like the other mining hamlets of the mountainous regions, it boasted of log cabins and tents. Here and there a saloon or resort. These were already full of rough men bent on celebrating. Whether it was Sunday or Monday made no difference.

  They rode up the narrow street and asked for a livery barn and were directed to a stable back of the Nugget Saloon. They unpacked their animals and saw to it that they were watered and fed. Then they took inventory of the stock in the stables. In a far end in a stall by themselves, Bob discovered two of Ford's mules, and knew that the fugitives were in town. He called the stable man over to him.

  "Where will I find the men who brought these mules in?"

  "Stolen, air they?" the man asked suspiciously.

  "Guess not," Bob answered carelessly. "Just thought maybe we might buy one or both, if we could."

  "They belongs to a feller name o' Plummer. Yore like to find 'im over to the Nugget Saloon or the hotel."

  "How many in the party?"

  "Only two showed up here."

  Could it be that the main part of the gang, with Dixie, had gone to Elk City after all? The thought was maddening to Bob. If it was true, a thousand things could happen to her before he could ever reach her. Again, it was possible the party had split in this country and part of them gone to Florence or Virginia City. This he doubted, however, for he believed that Plummer would have made himself safer by keeping them here together. It was more likely that he had sent them to Elk City with the intention of pushing
them into the Basin.

  "Shorty," he admonished, as they walked away from the stable, "we've got to be careful. I've got to find out if Dixie is in this country with those men. She told me she was afraid of Plummer and Cleveland. I know they're both after her. I shouldn't wonder if Three Finger Smith was trailing her too. A beautiful girl like her hasn't much chance with a gang of murderers like these. God! I'm nearly crazy!"

  "Jest yuh say the word, podner, an' we'll shoot up the town."

  "No, we won't start anything until we know the lay. You'd better scout around a bit. It isn't likely they would recognize you as quickly as they would me. I'll drop down the street and find an eating place. I'll be waiting for you. If we are ever going to do anything it will have to be tonight, for I'm heading back in the morning if we don't find Dixie. Hurry! "

  A hundred yards or so east of the Nugget Saloon Bob found a log restaurant. He glanced furtively about the room. There were only two other occupants. They paid no attention to him as he took a seat at one of the tables facing the door. No one could come in without his seeing them.

  Before long Shorty came in and sauntered back to Bob's table. "They was at the Nugget Saloon, all right, Bob," he volunteered. "Lickered up an' goin' strong. They didn't seem tuh be on very good terms--quarrelin' to beat ol' Nick."

  Bob's eyes brightened. "You say they were quarreling?"

  "That's what I'd call it. They was cussin' each other out aplenty. I heerd Plummer say, 'If yuh double-crosses me I'll let daylight through yore guts!'"

  "And Three Finger?" Bob questioned impatiently.

  "Don't think he's in town, podner. I asked some o' the men an' no one knowed him."

  "Then we'll get this thing over with. We've got to take care of these two and ride. We haven't any time to lose. I've got to get to Elk City. I can't rest until I find Dixie."

  "I'm thinkin'," Shorty answered, pushing back his plate, "that when we does fer these ringtail leaders the rest'll be easy."