The Bitterroot Trail

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The Bitterroot Trail Page 19

by James W. Johnson


  Shorty went for his gun, but Bob reached out and caught his hand. "No, Shorty. He'll never come back or he wouldn't have given me the layout of things. He's more afraid of Three Finger than he says Plummer is."

  Bob said little on the way back to Placerville. He was thoughtfully pondering the last words of Dante, and the truth of his predicament sank in. Plummer had cunningly contrived to gain the sympathy of most of the miners against him, and it meant hard sledding for the Vigilantes who took a hand in his behalf. He wondered if he would be doing the right thing to let his friends incriminate themselves in his behalf. He realized, too, that with this price on his head he would not be safe any place in the Basin.

  He finally decided that the safest place for him to winter was in Jackass Flat. Perhaps by spring the citizens would have learned enough of the murderous purpose of Plummer to oust him. That would give him a better chance to settle accounts. Then, too, if he went to the flat, it would make it safe for his friends.

  Shorty broke the silence. "What's eatin' yuh, podner? Yuh ain't thinkin' about what that no-count Dante said, be yuh?"

  "This reward business puts a new angle to the thing," Bob commented. "If I stay around Placerville this winter I'll be inviting hot lead and death to all of you."

  "Aw, hell, yuh Flathaid Injun!" Shorty jeered, "ain't we thrived on that fer months? An' ain't we lived through it? Won't Plummer an' Three Finger rip their galluses when they finds them guards in the mornin'?"

  Bob was so engrossed in his problem he failed to see the joke intended. "Shorty, you know there's the two gals to think about. I can't bring danger to them, for we know that gang will start something. You know as well as I do that they have no respect for any man or woman who stands in their way. It's a good general who uses strategy."

  "Shucks! Hain't we got the Vigilantes?"

  "Yes, we have the Vigilantes, but if we take a stand right now it will mean bloodshed, and a lot of innocent men will be wiped out. There are even a lot of innocent men who believe in Plummer and Smith. We mustn't forget that."

  "Hell's bells, yuh ain't givin' up, be yuh?" Shorty demanded savagely.

  "Give up?" Bob exclaimed angrily. "I've never been so determined in my life to wipe out Three Finger Smith and Plummer. But the way things stand it looks like they've won the first battle. I'm heading for Jackass Flat before the snow gets so deep I can't make it. I'll be calling to pay you a visit when the snow packs so I can get in again."

  Shorty shrugged his shoulders and let the subject drop.

  "Don't yuh want me tuh trail along, Bob?" Jim asked solicitously. "I ain't got no gal's apron strings tangled around me."

  Bob shook his head. "No, Jim. If trouble comes you'll be needed here. But I think when I'm out of the way they won't molest you. One thing I want you both to remember--I'm holding you for the protection of Dixie. Don't let her go home or get into the hands of the gang again!"

  24

  THERE WAS GREAT EXCITEMENT IN BANNOCK next morning, and the sheriff was exhibiting his wrath in everything he said and did. The disappearance of his two henchmen from jail, and the account of it given him by the guards, made him swear immediate vengeance on Pokerface Rob. He set out forthwith to put his plan into execution. He began by calling a general mass meeting of all the miners within quick reach, and sent special messengers to his deputies.

  Because of the heavy fall of snow they found it was impossible to locate any trace of the missing deputies. The sheriff and his ever-present lieutenant, Three Finger Smith, concluded that they had been shot, since they didn't find them hanging to any of the trees. Added to this defeat came the discovery by Three Finger Smith that Dixie had disappeared.

  "I done warned yuh all the time that that gal wasn't tuh be trusted!" Three Finger grumbled.

  "Yuh was always so cockshore o' her bein' thar when yuh called. Now, she's gone! Yuh might as well o' let me have her in the first place."

  Plummer was pacing back and forth in his room, cursing, mad as a raging bull. His long hair, usually smoothed down like a porous plaster, was ruffled; his ugly fat cheeks burned blood red, while his pig eyes looked even smaller and more dangerous.

  "Listen, Three Finger. What to hell you thinking about to let that gal get out of your sight? God! She knows enough to hang the lot of us!"

  "I didn't have no cause tuh interfere, an' yuh knows it! I jest happened in tuh the cabin an' I finds it as bare as that table. Even the bed wasn't used last night."

  "Damn that gal she called Daisy!" Plummer fumed, pounding a gnarled fist on the table. "Find that gal they call Daisy, and when you do you'll find Dixie! Bring them both to me! I'll settle them!"

  The color came into Three Finger's face as he eyed his chief disgustedly. "Go an' git her yoreself! When I wants a gal, I don't ast no one tuh take a hand--I goes an' gits her! An' listen tuh this! From here on I'm doin' some dictatin'! Yore makin' a hell o' a mess o' it!"

  Plummer whirled about savagely, his lip curling curiously on one side. "Why, you son of a bitch!" he roared. "I'll blow you to hell!"

  Three Finger did not move, but his eyes half closed as he stooped slightly forward.

  Plummer realized the killer's dangerous posture. He hesitated. Then the tension suddenly broke. "I didn't exactly mean that, Three Finger. We can't afford to quarrel. There's too much at stake. If one of us hangs, we both hang. Haven't I always treated you right, with equal cut in everything?"

  "Yuh can bet yore life yuh have, Plummer, an' I'm warnin' yuh not tuh try tuh bulldoze me no more! I'll meet any man that lives on the draw an' I'll git him, an' yuh knows it!"

  "Then get Pokerface Bob, and I'll raise the ante a thousand," proffered Plummer.

  Three Finger shook his head.

  "What's the matter? Scared?"

  "No!" Three Finger spat savagely. "I ain't afeered o' any man that walks on two laigs! The price ain't high enough!"

  "I'll make it five! I'm talking money!"

  "Where's yore nerve, Plummer? That Pokerface Bob feller's got you on the run!"

  "Think I daren't go after him? Think I won't shoot it out with him? You're so damned much like Cleveland that I'm beginning to hate your guts! Cleveland got his, and by--"

  "Oh, shut up! Yuh gives me the bellyache! Now, let's git down tuh business. I'm goin' after Pokerface fer five thousand. What do I git fer the gal?"

  "What?" Plummer stared incredulously. "You trying to blackmail me?"

  "I ain't above it, an' I ain't worryin' whether you likes it er not. I'll git the gal fer myself. I don't mind tellin' yuh that I cotton tuh her. O' course, I'd sell my claim right out with no strings tied tuh it if the price 's right."

  "Go to the devil, you fool! I'll get the gal myself."

  "That's one pint we differs on, Plummer. Well," he drawled, "if yuh won't do business I'll be goin'."

  "Wait!" For a moment Plummer hesitated. "Would you be willing to help me get her out of the country quick if I come across?"

  "I'd help take her tuh purgatory if the price's high enough."

  "How's five thousand?"

  Three Finger scratched his scarred face thoughtfully as he rolled his tongue in his cheeks. "It's a bargain!"

  "There's only one condition. If I or any other member of the gang gets her, this agreement don't stand."

  Three Finger nodded his approval with an evil grin. "I got a hunch yuh'll pay me all right."

  "Come on down to the Bannock Saloon. It's time for the mass meeting. We've got to keep these dumb miners thinking that we're their servants of the law."

  Three Finger followed with a confident nonchalant stride.

  No less than a hundred citizens and deputies were in the barroom awaiting the sheriff when he arrived. He lost no time in calling the meeting. He began at once to explain the purpose of the call, and in his smooth fiery way began to gain more and more the sympathy of his rough listeners.

  "There is a famous outlaw in the Basin, an outlaw who is known from California gold rush days to this. He is wa
nted for murder in a dozen places!" He talked compellingly. "Since coming to the Basin a few days ago, three murders can be laid to his door. I have already offered one thousand dollars for his capture, and tonight I'm raising the ante to two thousand. He is wanted for the murder of John Lee, an honest miner who came here to live peaceably with you in the pursuit of his share of the riches, and peace. He was brutally murdered by Pokerface Bob Bainbridge, without a chance! He was killed while working his claim, and he was unarmed. I don't think he'd have known how to use a gun if he'd had one on him."

  There followed a rumble of hatred from the crowd at these words. They were gradually growing more and more restless as he proceeded.

  "Then, last night, while honest men like you and me were asleep in our beds, this same Pokerface Bob and two confederates cracked the jail and took two men I had put in there for protection against the outlaw, took them out somewhere and deliberately shot them in cold blood! Men, we are not going to stand for this! We must make this rich basin a place of safety for honest men and women. Now, my advice is not to step outside your cabins without your guns buckled on. None of you are safe until this highwayman and murderer is brought in."

  There were mutterings of approval among the men. Hen Plummer knew he had won them over. To cinch his victory he called them up to the bar to have one on him. Plummer was undoubtedly the most popular man in camp, but Three Finger Smith was the most feared.

  Three Finger Smith slunk away from the crowd and went to the stable for his horse. He knew that once these hard men went on the hunt his own chance of bringing in Pokerface Bob and the girl was comparatively small, and he didn't propose to lose that ten thousand. What became of Bob Bainbridge after he took him mattered little. He would as soon kill him and have it over with. But he had different ambitions about the girl.

  Already his evil cunning mind was forming a diabolical plan. He would locate the girl first, then when the opportunity afforded he would seize her. He'd make Plummer pay double before he delivered her. Then he'd kill Plummer and take possession of the prize again. He'd get out of the country and begin in a new field.

  He mounted his horse and headed toward Placerville through a foot of snow.

  Hen Plummer, back in his room, was much pleased with himself. He too was planning. He hated and feared Bob Bainbridge above all other living men. He grinned evilly. If these poor duped miners didn't wipe Bob out before spring, he would organize a gigantic posse and hunt him out. He had feared the strength of Bob's followers, but after the demonstration at the saloon he was not afraid. If Bainbridge had formed a Vigilance Association it would not be of sufficient strength to beat the miners. The only danger lay in the possibility of the miners getting wise to his purposes. If they were to turn on him it would mean his finish.

  To make sure of saving his own neck, back in his mind he was planning to arrange things so he could get out of the country at a moment's notice. He didn't want to do this, however, until Bob Bainbridge was wiped out and he had recovered the girl.

  Another galling angle was that he distrusted and mortally feared Three Finger Smith. For that reason, no price was too great to keep him loyal until he had the girl safe. Then he would wipe him out. Better still, he would hire him killed. With Three Finger and Pokerface Bob out of the way he would have a free hand.

  He held rigidly to his former policy of keeping in the background, not being too friendly with his own gang, and courting the friendship of the rough citizens. He had succeeded in becoming virtually the dictator of the Basin. Now he began to plan on becoming the legally elected sheriff when the time came that Lincoln would organize the territory and the real law would move in. Then he would hold the whip hand, and any opposition from Pokerface Bob or his followers would be put down immediately.

  * * * *

  Shorty Windless, the faithful ally of Bob Bainbridge, was despondent as he gazed from the door of his cabin in Placerville across the glistening snow at the little valley. He slammed the door disgustedly. He was worried about Bob. He seemed so changed last night. What surprised him most was his letting his prisoners go, perhaps to return and knife him in the back. Shorty believed in the adage that "dead men tell no tales."

  Too well he realized the odds against Bob were overwhelming. The worst part of it was he refused to let his few loyal friends take a hand for fear of bringing down the wrath of his enemies upon them. He knew too that Bob was eating his heart out for Dixie, and that only his stubborn pride kept him from approaching her again.

  "What's the matter, Shorty?" Daisy looked up from her work.

  "Hell's fire, Daisy!" he exploded. "Matter? Yuh know, when a man's gone daffy an' busted his heart over a gal, an' his enemies has put a price on his haid, an' then he won't let his friends help him, he's jest about tuh pass in his chips! I tell you we got tuh find a way tuh do something!"

  "I know, Shorty. The first thing is to get things right 'twixt him and Dixie. With a busted heart he won't fight back, 'cause he don't care. Bob Bainbridge ain't the man to admit it, but you can see from his actions."

  Shorty threw his arms out desperately. "Yeah, a big chance! Onless Dixie throwed herself at him demandin' perfection, he'd refuse tuh marry her till he's wiped Three Finger an' Plummer out. Sentimental tomfoolery I calls it! But, by cracky, we got to try something!"

  "I'm goin' to talk with Dixie. She'll listen to a woman when she wouldn't to a bow-legged man. Not that I think Bob's legs is bowed, but I fancy they're getting sorta bent."

  Shorty crossed to the window and glanced out. His head came up with a jerk, while his mustache bristled like the hair on a cat's back at seeing a dog.

  "Daisy! Gimme that rifle quick! Then step tuh the door; we got a visitor! He's got a beard, but I kin still see the scar on his cheek! Don't be afeered. If he makes a awkward move I'll drill him plenty."

  She grabbed the loaded rifle from the corner and handed it to him. "That'll be Three Finger Smith!" she said with a toss of her head. "I'd like to rip his belly open myself !"

  She opened the door to face the ugly intruder sitting on his horse not ten feet away. He grinned evilly at sight of the woman.

  "This is just a social call, Missus. Thar ain't no call tuh be afeered."

  "Afraid?" she challenged disdainfully. "It'd take a blacker heart than yours, Three Finger Smith, to scare Daisy Windlessl"

  He chuckled dryly. "I believe yuh, Missus. But I jest rode around tuh ast how Dixie Lee is farin' since her pap cashed in."

  "Dixie Lee ain't here, and I don't know a thing about the gal. And if I did know anything about her I wouldn't be spillin' it to the likes of you!"

  "I don't suppose yuh knows anything about Pokerface Bob either?" he tantalized. "Wal that's hunkydory, Missus. Take good care of 'em. Yuh ain't foolin' me none."

  The rifle trembled in Shorty's hands as the man rode away. What kept him from pulling the trigger he couldn't tell, for he knew the man was wise as to the hereabout of Dixie, and possibly Bob. If this man knew, Plummer and the whole Basin knew as much, and it would be only a matter of days, perhaps hours, until they would close in on them.

  He slammed the rifle in the corner. Daisy was standing staring at him, her blue eyes snapping fire.

  "I thought sure you'd drill him, Shorty' It's a hell of a good thing for him I wasn't on the workin' end of that shootin' iron!"

  "He might have a hundred men in them trees thar. If I' d a shot him we'd all a bin wiped out inside o' thirty minutes. Lord knows I wanted tuh shoot his liver out bad enough. We got tuh git Dixie outa here, an' jest as damn quick as we kin! Whar is she?"

  "In the kitchen. You stay here and mind your business. I'll tend to her," she commanded, and strode quickly from the room.

  25

  THREE FINGER SMITH DISMOUNTED AT THE saloon and proceeded to tank up. His black eyes were shining like jet beads. With a dozen men he could take his quarry any time; might even take them alone. All he needed to do was watch the cabin, and when Bainbridge appeared pick him off with a ri
fle. When the women were alone he would simply walk in and take Dixie by main force. The thing he must guard against was anyone else making the same discovery.

  About this time Plummer sauntered into the saloon. "Any luck?" he asked through the corner of his mouth. Three Finger stared up vacantly into his face without answering. Plummer motioned him with a little jerk of the head to follow him. He didn't want the men in the saloon to get suspicious. He led the way to a back room, closed and locked the door behind them.

  Turning Three Finger he spoke anxiously. "Spit it out, Three Finger!"

  "Pokerface an' Dixie's disappeared'"

  "Oh, Hell!" Plummer gasped, sinking into the nearest chair. "It isn't possible!"

  "Shore as shootin', Plummer. They ain't nowheres in the Placerville country. It's my guess theys headed fer Fort Boise. I done searched every cabin in the valley."

  Plummer eyed him evilly. "You're not lying to me?"

  "What makes yuh think I'd lie to yuh, when they's ten thousand in the pokes fer me?"

  Plummer squirmed nervously in his seat. "Three Finger, we're in a bad hole as long as Pokerface Bob is alive! God! He creeps up in the night, and snuff, one or two lives go out! He's gone while we sit here wondering how it happened!" He jumped to his feet. "By God, I want Pokerface Bob! If there's no one in this gang brave enough to get him, I'll get my force together and split him wide open. You, a gunfighter! Why, you're as gentle as a damn bantam rooster!"

  "I don't see yuh goin' after him very strong," Three Finger laughed tantalizingly. "When Hen Plummer goes after 'em he takes his army o' gun fighters along tuh save his damned neck! Pokerface could shoot both yore eyes out afore yuh could loosen yore gun from its holster."

  "Say !" yelled Plummer frantically "Do you know who Pokerface Bob is? Well, I'll spill the beans. He's the brother of Nan Bainbridge! She's the gal you won in that card game from Cherokee Bob, and finally killed!"

 

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