Colorado Crossfire

by Patrick E. Andrews

  Paxton swallowed weakly. “How’s ol’ Bill?”

  “It looks like he was only hit once, but it did for him,” Lefty said.

  “I’m done for, too,” Paxton said. “And you two owe me.”

  “You was gonna hang me, Milo!” Lefty protested. “I don’t owe you a goddamned thing!”

  “This whole damn situation is your fault,” Paxton said. “Oh!” A stab of pain hit him hard.

  “You want to sit up?” Lefty said.

  “I’d be happy if—” Paxton groaned again. “I can’t hold myself straight. Can you set my saddle down for me?”

  “I’ll get it,” Kiowa said. He quickly saw to unsaddling the horse. Within moments he and Lefty had Milo Paxton leaning against it. “How’s that?”

  “Obliged,” Paxton said. He started to speak but had to wait while the hurt came and went again. “You got to do me a favor now. Hear?”

  “Piss up a rope,” Kiowa said.

  ‘Wait a minute,” Lefty said. “Milo’s right. In a way, we did kinda start all this.”

  “Yeah,” Paxton said. “You did, and that’s a fact.”

  “What do you want?” Kiowa asked.

  “You got to go to my wife and tell her I’m dead,” Paxton said. “And you got to help her and my boy and her pappy down to Helena. And that means Orly, too.” He moaned. “Don’t let ’em stay in the mountains. And I don’t want ’em in Luckville either.”

  “You’re pretty picky, ain’t you?” Kiowa said.

  “If you hadn’t took that job – oh! If you hadn’t took that job from the railroad this wouldn’t have happened,” Paxton said. “And you owe Hays, too. My wife is his sister.”

  “Hey, no shit?” Lefty said.

  “We sure didn’t know that,” Kiowa said.

  “Yeah,” Lefty added. “We knowed that Orly was Bill’s brother, but—”

  “Will you shut up and listen?” Paxton pleaded in a voice growing fainter. “My family is northwest o’ Pan-And-Weep at Indian Gap.”

  “Yeah. We rode up there a coupla times,” Lefty said.

  Paxton reached up and grabbed Lefty’s vest. “The family don’t know we robbed trains. They think we got our money digging gold.”

  “Well, we’ll damn well tell ’em what a coupla train robbing sonofabitches you both were,” Kiowa said.

  “Don’t do that, Kiowa,” Paxton said. “Just tell ’em we was kilt and you’re supposed to take ’em to Helena.”

  “No way!” Kiowa exclaimed.

  “We’ll do it, Milo,” Lefty said.

  “Thanks, Lefty. I got a brooch in my shirt pocket,” Paxton said. “Show it to Mae. She’ll know you’re telling the truth.”

  “I’ll do it,” Lefty said.

  “The hell if you will!” Kiowa shouted.

  “He’s dying, Kiowa,” Lefty said.

  “So what? Lot’s o’ folks die,” Kiowa said. “I ain’t real sad about the ones that have tried to kill me.” He glared at Paxton and bared his teeth. “Us Injuns believe we’ll all meet again in the afterlife. That’s why we mutilate our dead enemies, so they won’t be able to do us no harm there.” He pulled his knife. “I’m gonna scalp you, Milo.”

  “For the love of God, Kiowa!” the gang leader exclaimed. The effort made him cough. Blood came out from between his lips. He made a pitiful effort to wipe at it, but his strength was going fast. “Please – see my wife and do what you want to me. I don’t care. Just wait’ll I’m dead.”

  “You gonna cut him up, Kiowa?” Lefty asked in a whisper.

  Kiowa shook his head. “Naw! I was just mad, I reckon.”

  Lefty turned to speak to Milo Paxton again, but saw he had slipped away. “He’s dead.”

  “You ain’t gonna go see his wife, are you?” Kiowa asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Lefty said defiantly. “And you’re going too, hear? It’ll make things right, won’t it? I mean we was all fighting but it’s over and we won. We got to do that, Kiowa. It sorta straightens ever’thing out. That way there shouldn’t be no bad feelings.”

  Kiowa protested. “I ain’t got any bad feelings ’bout nothing!”

  “Now calm down,” Lefty said. “I’m talking about later on when we think back on all this. That widder woman aint’ to blame for nothing, is she?”

  “Well—”

  “Is she?” Lefty repeated.

  “Maybe not,” Kiowa admitted.

  “Then we owe her a favor on account o’ we brung about her husband and brother’s death,” Lefty said. “We got to give her some help, Kiowa.”

  “I’ll go along, but I ain’t talking to her,” Kiowa said.

  Further conversation was interrupted as Phineus Carrington rode up on his burro. He dismounted and hurried over to them. “You lads seem to be no worse for wear after all this.”

  “We’re fine, Phineus,” Lefty said. “Thanks to you, that is “

  “Yeah,” Kiowa said. “How’s it been going?” Phineus smiled broadly and clapped each of them on the shoulder. “My boys! The greatest, the richest, the most fantastic vein of silver is in our grasp.”

  “What’re you saying, Phineus?” Lefty asked. Phineus grinned with twinkling eyes, the excitement dancing across his face. “I found El Capitan!”

  Twenty-Two

  Orlando Hays was not stupid.

  His mental condition was the result of a lengthy, traumatic birth that killed his mother. Orly had entered the world with the umbilical cord tight around his neck, the condition worsened by the fact that his was a breech birth. With oxygen cut off for a considerable amount of time, his mental processes were seriously and permanently affected. His life was destined to be filled with incidents that his family described as “conniption fits” in which he fell kicking and struggling into unconsciousness.

  Orly never realized what happened during the seizures. Only when he awoke on the floor of the cabin or on the ground with his sister Mae and brother Bill kneeling over him did he realize that some inexplicable event had occurred to him, which concerned and frightened them.

  Orly could not express himself. Speech was difficult for him and he was never able to learn to read and write. Deep inside that impaired brain, though, other processes made up for what had been crippled. He could understand perfectly what went on around him. His concept of his surroundings and their meaning was not lost on the young man.

  And when Lefty McNally and the Kiowa Kid rode up to the cabin, he recognized them immediately when his sister Mae went out on the porch to see them.

  Lefty, inelegant and never particularly thoughtful, wanted to make sure he was speaking to the right woman. Forgetting for a moment that the woman was unaware of her husband’s death, he artlessly asked, “Are you the Widder Paxton?”

  “No, I ain’t,” Mae replied.

  “You want to bet?” Kiowa said.

  Lefty gave him a dirty look. “Shush!”

  “What is it you want, mister?” Mae asked as a feeling of alarm rose in her.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Lefty said dismounting from his horse. “I have brung you bad news.” The Kiowa Kid, his face impassive and severe, stayed aboard his horse. He elected to remain silent.

  Mae Hays Paxton with her son beside her and father standing behind on the porch with Orly, braced herself. She dreaded the words she knew she must hear. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you afore, sir.”

  “My name’s Lefty McNally, Miz Paxton,” he said. “This here’s my pard, the Kiowa Kid.”

  Mae took a deep breath before she spoke again. “What is it, Mr. McNally, that you wish to say to me?”

  “I’m afeered your husband and brother has been kilt, ma’am,” Lefty said. He reached in his vest pocket and pulled out the brooch that Milo Paxton had given him. “Milo’s last words was that you was to have this.”

  Mae gasped, but that was the only emotion she showed. She took the brooch. “What happened, Mr. McNally?”

  “An accident at their diggings, ma’am,” Lefty said. He hadn’t made
up a story, but he suddenly remembered Phineus’ dynamite and the danger it added to the already risky work of mining. It gave him an idea to make his story plausible. “A explosion did for ’em, ma’am. They died peaceful thinking on you folks. Bill went quick but Milo lingered a spell. He asked for me and my pal to take you down to Helena.”

  Orly listened to Lefty, then turned and went back into the cabin. He knew damned well that if Milo Paxton and Bill Hays had been killed, it hadn’t been at any gold mining operation. Orly was fully aware they were robbing trains when he held the horses up on the ridge above the tracks while the gang looted the cars and the passengers. He also knew that the stories of digging for gold were lies made up to keep Mae from finding out how they got the money. Orly didn’t know why all that had come about, but he didn’t care either.

  If Milo and Bill were dead, they’d been shot. The smart part of Orly’s brain told him that. It also made him realize that a couple of hombres like Lefty McNally and the Kiowa Kid were the ones that did it. He went over to the corner where his father kept the shotgun. Both barrels, as always, were loaded in the event of trouble or an unexpected flock of birds. Orly picked it up and walked back toward the front door, pulling back on both hammers. From that distance he could pull the two triggers one right after the other and kill Lefty and Kiowa without as much as bothering to aim.

  ~*~

  The day before, after Lefty and Kiowa had buried Milo Paxton and Bill Hays with Phineus Carrington’s help, the three had sat down to form the El Capitan Mining Company.

  “It’s real white o’ you to let us in on it even though we didn’t find it with you,” Lefty said.

  Kiowa smirked. “I saw he was acting more like an Injun than a white by doing that.”

  Phineus laughed. “Ah, my sturdy young friends, that candor between yourselves refreshes this old heart.” He chuckled some more as he filled his pipe. “But I need you, lads. The yield of silver is so extensive that I could never operate the company alone. I am in dire need of assistance from a couple of trustworthy friends.”

  “Boy oh boy!” Lefty said rubbing his hands together. “I can’t wait to get up there and start digging that silver outta the ground.”

  “Wait up, my boys,” Phineus said. “I was not hyperbolizing when I stated the extent of the riches. Why, we three could go up there and dig for a hundred years and not pull a tenth – nay – a hundredth of that silver from there.”

  “I’m having trouble follering you, Phineus,” Lefty said frowning in puzzlement.

  “Yeah,” Kiowa said.

  “What I am leading up to, is that I shall form the El Capitan Mining Company. By selling stock to investors and hiring miners and purchasing equipment, we shall be able to produce ore to such an extent we could very well be the wealthiest men on this entire planet!”

  “That’s mighty fine, Phineus,” Lefty said. “But do you really need us if you’re hiring other fellers to do the digging?”

  “You ain’t obliged to us in no way,” Kiowa said.

  “I have your friendship, my boys,” Phineus said. “My time with you has been a spell with two of the most gentlemanly, courteous, trustworthy, and chivalrous men I have ever met in all the years I’ve been living.”

  “Aw, hell, Phineus!” Lefty said waving off the compliment.

  “I need some handy fellows around me for protection and to perform errands and in whom I must be able to place my absolute trust,” Phineus said. “I know you lads will fill that bill most admirably.”

  “We’d be proud to work for you, Phineus,” Lefty said.

  “You bet!” Kiowa said echoing the feeling.

  “You’ll be more than employees, lads,” Phineus assured them. “I’ll pay you each a handsome salary – more than a railroad president could make – and give you generous shares of stock. It’ll be worth it, believe me, to have you around to keep my worried mind at ease.”

  “You can count on us, Phineus!” Lefty exclaimed.

  “You bet!” Kiowa said.

  “Then let’s get back to Helena and form the corporation,” Phineus said. “You both shall be named as officers and help me in the sale of stock.” He danced a little jig. “Oh, my boys! We’re on our way to the good life!” A dreamy expression came over his face. “Ah! To be back in Philadelphia once more! To walk in society with my peers! The theatre! The opera! Concerts! The best restaurants!”

  “One thing first, Phineus,” Lefty said. “We promised Milo Paxton that we’d fetch his widder and bring her to Helena.”

  Kiowa sighed. “Yeah. I don’t want to but we gotta do it.”

  “Now you see!” Phineus exclaimed. ‘You’re both men of trust and honor! By God above! That’s why I value your friendship more than all the silver in El Capitan.”

  “Thanks, Phineus,” Lefty said. “I reckon we’d better bury Pud and Ben too before we leave.”

  “Craw’s back there somewheres,” Kiowa said. “I don’t recollect exactly where I drug him off his horse.”

  “You boys tend to your obligations,” Phineus said. “I shall return to Helena to make El Capitan a legal organization complete with the right to issue stock, hire men, and purchase operating equipment.”

  “You bet, Phineus,” Lefty said. He grabbed Kiowa’s sleeve. “C’mon. Let’s go see Miz Paxton and get did what we got to do.”

  “I’m coming,” Kiowa said.

  ~*~

  Orly opened his eyes. He could see the late evening sky above him. He glanced to the side and saw his nephew Willie sitting beside him.

  “Uncle Orly is awake,” he called out.

  Mae’s face appeared above him. “How are you, little brother?”

  Orly smiled an answer, trying to bring his mind back into focus. He felt better and sat up, noting he was in the farm wagon and that they were slowly rolling along.

  “We’re on our way to Helena, Orly,” Mae said. “Mr. McNally and Mr. Kiowa is leading the way for us. Can you remember why they come to see us?”

  Orly looked ahead and saw Lefty and Kiowa riding in front of the vehicle. His father was handling the reins of the old plow horse pulling the vehicle.

  Mae continued, “We’ve lost Milo and Bill, Orly. They was kilt at the digs. But don’t you cry none. We’ll have a fine home and don’t you worry none about it now, hear?”

  By then Lefty had turned his horse and rode up. He looked over the side of the wagon. “Hey, you, Orly. Don’t you be picking up no shotguns no more, hear? You scared the shit – pardon me, ma’am – outta us.”

  “You had a conniption, Orly,” Mae explained. “You fell down and must have been carrying that shotgun for some reason. It went off.”

  “You blowed a hole right through the roof,” Lefty said.

  Orly, now realizing that Lefty and Kiowa were trustworthy and hadn’t come to do more harm, accepted the truth of it. He smiled again at Mae, then lay back down to take a nap.

  The conniptions always wore him out.

  Twenty-Three

  It was Jim Bigelow who was responsible for Mae Paxton learning the truth about her husband and brother.

  He had been scouting around Pan-And-Weep trying to find out where Milo Paxton and Bill Hays had taken Lefty and Kiowa. The locals could only tell him of a ferocious fight in which eight or nine men had one hell of a time beating the hell out of two others – a white man and an Injun.

  Jim Bigelow was sick with worry. When he finally stumbled across the Paxton wagon being led by Lefty and Kiowa a few miles outside of the settlement, his relief at seeing his two manhunters alive turned to anger when he was introduced to the passengers in the wagon.

  “How come you’re providing ’em guide service?” Bigelow angrily demanded. “Ain’t you got any feelings of loyalty at all for the Northwest and Canadian?”

  “Sure we do. But let me talk to you, Jim,” Lefty said. “C’mon over here with me.” They rode a few yards away. “Miz Paxton don’t know nothing ’ ’bout Milo and Bill being train robbers. She think
s they was digging gold all this time. It’d break her heart if she found out about it.”

  “Well, ain’t that too bad,” Bigelow said.

  “There ain’t nothing to be gained by telling her,” Lefty said. “She can start over in the world with nice mem’ries of Milo and Bill. They even told her the money they got from the robbers was from turning in gold to an assay office. She can use it to—”

  Bigelow stopped listening. He drew his pistol and galloped the short distance to the wagon. Keeping a close eye on both old Zeb Hays and Orly, he pulled himself out of the saddle and stepped into the wagon bed. After kicking through the contents of the vehicle he found the stash of money in a canvas bag.

  “This here is the property of the Northwest and Canadian Railroad!” Bigelow announced.

  Kiowa sat on his horse grinning.

  “You’re robbing us, sir!” Mae exclaimed. She turned to Lefty and Kiowa. “Please, Mr. McNally. You and your friend has got to help us.”

  Lefty now realizing that the money was indeed loot from the Paxton gang’s raids could only shrug. “Now, Miz Paxton, maybe you don’t know the whole story.”

  “I’ll tell you the truth,” Bigelow said jumping from the wagon back into his saddle. “You’re goddamned husband was a train robbing, murdering, thieving sonofabitch and so was Bill Hays.” Holding onto the bag, he whirled his horse and galloped away.

  If Mae Paxton had any doubts about Jim Bigelow’s accusations, they were swept away when they finally arrived in Helena. The story of the Paxton gang’s demise was well known by then. The railroad president Edmond Terwilliger came to town and personally saw that the full account of the manhunt was put in the local newspaper.

  Mae and her father were submitted to a rude scrutiny by the citizenry upon their arrival in town. Unkind words were shouted at them and the local sheriff finally deputized some extra men to protect the confused and frightened family. Mae, Willie, Zeb, and Orly, destitute, alone and friendless, were forced to spend the night huddled in their wagon in a field at the edge of town. The sheriff and his men patrolled the area to keep the curious and the furious away from them.