Carrying all the lamps inside, he could feel that they had oil in them already.
“Whoever rented this house to you made sure you had everything.”
“I told you,” Tesla said. “I use reputable firms.”
“Well,” Clint said, “let’s unpack what we can before it gets dark, and I’ll use that stove to make us some supper.”
“Venison stew?” Tesla asked hopefully.
“No,” Clint said. “I have to go hunting for that. I’ll do it tomorrow. Plenty of deer around here. I’ll bag one tomorrow. Tonight, it’s beans and bacon.”
They carried in what they could, mostly food, coffee, blankets, Clint’s bag and rifle, and Tesla’s bag with his personal belongings. Clint saw some of Tesla’s equipment on the buckboard, saw that a lot of it was made of metal.
“What are those?” he asked, pointing.
“Electrodes.”
“I don’t know what those are,” Clint said.
“I’ll show you, when I get everything ready.”
When they got what they could inside, Clint went out and took care of the team. There was a lean-to behind the house that he pressed into service as a livery. He then collected wood for the stove. He got it lit and started a pot of coffee, then set about to make the bacon and beans. Before long the house smelled of food and coffee, and was warm. They were able to remove their jackets.
Tesla sat at the table with a cup of coffee and watched Clint cook.
“You can do many things I cannot,” Tesla said.
“Like what? Shoot a gun?”
“More than that,” he replied. “Cook, hunt, the way you stood up to those three men with an ax handle. You could have used your gun and you chose not to.”
“A gun is not always the way,” Clint said.
He filled two metal plates with beans and bacon, carried them to the table. He set one down in front of Tesla, then sat across from him with his own plate and coffee.
“When will you start doing . . . whatever it is you’re going to do?” Clint asked.
“I need the rest of my equipment. When it arrives, there will be enough men to carry everything in. Then I can get started.”
Clint poured out two more cups of coffee, scraped the rest of the bacon and beans into their plates.
“I’ll get an early start in the morning,” he said.
“Hunting?”
“Yes.”
“May I come with you? I’ve never hunted before.”
“But you’ve fired a rifle?”
“Yes, but not at anything living. I have nothing else to do until all my equipment is here and unloaded.”
“Okay,” Clint said. “We’ll go hunting at first light. Meanwhile, we’ll continue to keep watch. I’ll take the first, and wake you in four hours.”
“It will be a pleasure to sleep in a bed tonight.”
SEVENTEEN
In the morning Clint awoke and smelled coffee. He rolled out of bed. He’d had a good four hours on a mattress that had been better than half the hotels he’d stayed in over the years.
When he came out of the room, Tesla was standing by the stove, watching the coffeepot. He turned his head and saw Clint.
“Good morning.”
“Mornin’,” Clint said.
“I would have started breakfast, but I am much better at cooking over an open fire.”
“That’s okay,” Clint said. “I’ll make some bacon. Too bad we didn’t get some eggs while we were in Gunnison.”
“That would have been nice.”
“I’ll probably have to go back there for supplies at some point,” Clint said. “I’ll see if I can get some.”
“How long can we last on the supplies we have?” Tesla asked.
“A couple of weeks.”
“Well, we can worry about it then,” he said, “unless we find some chickens wandering about.”
“Not likely,” Clint said. “Any chicken found its way out here would get devoured by a big cat.”
“Big cat?”
“Mountain lion,” Clint said. “These mountains belong to them. If we want a deer today, we’ll have to beat a mountain lion to it.”
“Mountain lions?” Tesla asked. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah,” Clint said. “They are the top hunters up here.”
Tesla stared at Clint as the coffee started to boil over. Clint grabbed the pot and took it off the stove.
“Get the cups and pour,” Clint said. “I’ll put on the bacon.”
He cut strips of bacon and put them in a frying pan. Before long the house was filled with the scent of sizzling bacon.
They finished their breakfast and stepped outside. It was cold, but not oppressively so. They each held their rifles, and Clint was wearing his modified Colt.
“What do we do now?” Tesla asked.
“We walk,” Clint said. “Until we see some sign of a deer—or a mountain lion.”
“You keep talking about mountain lions,” Tesla said. “Are you trying to frighten me?”
“Not at all,” Clint said. “I just want you to realize what we have to deal with up here.”
“So what do we do if we come upon one?” Tesla asked. “A mountain lion, I mean.”
“We leave it alone as long as it leaves us alone.”
“And if it doesn’t leave us alone?”
“Then we kill it before it kills us,” Clint said. “Let’s start walking.”
“So if I could invent a gun that would fire electricity,” Tesla was saying half an hour later, “what would you think of that?”
“What good would it do?” Clint asked.
“Well . . . it would fire electricity instead of lead,” Tesla said.
“I understand that,” Clint said. “My question is . . . why? What for?”
“It would be better than bullets,” Tesla said.
“I’m afraid I’d have to see that to believe it,” Clint said. “Could I hit a deer at three hundred yards with your gun?”
“Can you do that now?”
“Yes.”
Tesla looked surprised.
“Three hundred yards?”
“Yes.”
He frowned, obviously unhappy.
“I don’t know if I could sustain an electrical charge over that distance.”
“Then I guess you still have some work to do.”
“Well, when I have the time—”
“Shh,” Clint said, holding up his hand.
Tesla obeyed, fell silent.
Clint pointed straight ahead of them.
“I don’t see anything,” Tesla whispered.
“Tracks,” Clint said.
“What kind?”
“Deer, maybe.”
“M-Mountain lion?”
“No,” Clint said, “not yet. Look.”
He pointed to the ground, but Tesla still didn’t see anything.
“I will just follow you,” he said, “while you follow the tracks.”
“All right.”
EIGHTEEN
Roman, Donnie, and Lefty rode into Gunnison with Givens trailing them. Roman held the reins in his left hand, kept his right tight to his body, still in a sling.
Abruptly, Givens rode up to join Roman.
“We know who the law is hereabouts?” he asked.
“Got no law to speak of,” Roman said. “Their last lawman got gunned down in the street, and folks just left him there for the longest time, way I heard it.”
“I heard some whore picked up his badge and pinned it on,” Lefty said.
They all looked at him.
“Hey,” he said, shrugging, “that’s what I heard.”
“A whore turned sheriff,” Givens said. “Now that sounds interestin’. Maybe she knows somethin’.”
“I ain’t about to talk to the law, even if it is a whore,” Roman said.
“I’ll go and talk to her,” Givens volunteered.
“Fine,” Roman said. “We’ll wait for you at the saloon.”
They split up there.
Givens dismounted in front of the sheriff’s office, which had a boarded-up window in front. He wondered if the office was even in use. Maybe the female sheriff was still working out of a whorehouse.
He walked to the front door and opened it. There was a woman with long hair seated at the desk. She looked up as he entered, and her eyes widened when she saw him.
“Can I help you?” she asked, looking him up and down. Givens knew his size brought him to the attention of both men and women, for different reasons. She looked interested in what she was seeing.
“Yeah, I just rode into town,” he said. “I’m lookin’ for a couple of men and thought the sheriff would be able to help me.”
“Well, I’m Sheriff Lawson,” she said.
“Yeah, I heard there was a woman sheriff here in Gunnison,” he said. “But I didn’t hear you were beautiful.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, “smooth talk’ll only get you so far. What was it you wanted? Information on two men you’re lookin’ for?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s their names?”
“I don’t know their names,” he said, “but they’re drivin’ a buckboard with a heavy load.”
“Ah . . .”
“Does that mean you saw them?”
“What do you want with them?”
“Why’s that matter?”
“I’m just curious.”
“A woman’s curiosity, or a lawman’s?”
“Are lawmen usually curious?” she asked. “Let’s say the female part of me and the law part of me want to know if you plan on killing these men.”
Suddenly, Givens wasn’t so friendly. He started to get to his feet, saying, “Now listen, girlie,” when he suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of a Peacemaker. She cocked the hammer, and they both remained silent for a few moments.
Then he sat back down.
“Okay,” he said, “okay. Calm down.”
“I’m calm,” she said. “But I won’t be spoken to or treated rudely. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Now ask me your question again.”
“Have you seen two men with an overloaded buckboard go through here in the past few days?”
“No,” she lied. “Next question.”
NINETEEN
Clint followed the trail until it crossed with that of a mountain lion.
“Stop.”
“What?” Tesla asked.
“There.” Clint pointed to the ground.
The track was clear enough for even Tesla to see. A large paw track.
“My God,” he said. “That’s huge.”
“Yeah,” Clint said, looking around, “it’s pretty big.”
“What’s it—where’s it going?”
“It’s following our deer.”
“Oh,” Tesla said. “Well, can’t we find another deer? Why do we have to go after the same one?”
“You want venison stew, don’t you?” Clint asked.
“Not if it means I have to fight a mountain lion for it.”
Clint laughed.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I won’t make you fight a mountain lion.”
“Good.”
“Shoot one, maybe,” Clint said, “but not fight one.”
Givens found the other three men at the saloon, each holding a beer, or leaning over it on the bar.
“Beer,” he said to the bartender.
“What did the whore sheriff have to say?” Roman asked.
“Nothin’,” Givens replied. “Says she didn’t see our guys.”
“You believe her?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you make her tell you the truth?”
Givens took his beer and sipped it, then looked at Roman.
“Why don’t you go over and make her tell you?”
Roman frowned at Givens, then turned his head.
“After this we’ll go over and talk to some of the merchants. Somebody must know somethin’,” Givens said. “We’ll split up and find out.”
“Maybe I will go and see the sheriff,” Roman said.
“Yeah,” Givens said, “maybe.”
About an hour later Clint and Tesla stopped again.
“What is it?”
“Let’s just sit here awhile.”
“I won’t complain about that.”
They sat down on some rocks.
“Do you think a deer will come walking by?” the scientist asked.
“Actually,” Clint said, “one might. There are a lot of tracks here.”
“How will we get it back to the house?” Tesla asked. “Aren’t they heavy?”
“If we wanted the whole animal, I’d sling it over my shoulders and carry it back,” Clint said. “But I’ll butcher it out here. We’ll take some of the best cuts and leave the rest for the cat.”
“Do you think the cat will appreciate the gesture?”
“Not at all,” Clint said. “He’ll probably eat his fill, and then follow us to get the rest.”
“Will you kill him?”
“Not unless I have to,” Clint said. “He’s just trying to survive.”
“Like the rest of us?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Tesla said, “maybe I can’t carry an entire deer carcass on my shoulders, but I’m sure I can carry some meat.”
“Okay,” Clint said. “We’ll sit here awhile and see what happens. In a little while we’ll start moving again.”
“How long will we stay out here?” Tesla asked.
“We’ll be back at the house before dark,” Clint said. “Guaranteed.”
“Very well.”
Givens, Roman, Lefty, and Donnie left the saloon.
“They must have had somethin’ to eat,” Givens said. “Somebody check the restaurants. Can’t be that many.”
“I’ll do it,” Donnie said.
“Somebody else check the general store.”
“Me,” Lefty said.
“I’ll go back inside and talk to the bartender,” Givens said. “Roman, you want to talk to the sheriff?”
“We’ll meet back here in an hour,” Roman said. “Somebody better find out something.”
Givens watched the three of them walk away, then turned and went back into the saloon.
“See it?” Clint asked twenty minutes later. “There, straight on.”
“I do,” Tesla whispered.
There was a deer about a hundred yards off, just standing and looking around. It was a young male, with just stubs where his antlers would soon be.
“You want to take a shot?” Clint asked.
“No,” Tesla said. “If I miss, we will lose him. You shoot.”
“Okay,” Clint said. “You can try next time.”
Clint shouldered his rifle and fired one shot, dropping the animal cleanly.
Tesla started forward, but Clint held his arm out to block him.
“Slowly,” he said. “That lion is still around.”
Tesla nodded, didn’t move until Clint did.
A half a mile away, a mountain lion lifted its head at the sound of the shot and listened intently. Then it sniffed the air.
And then it moved.
TWENTY
Roman had a sneaking suspicion that Givens had never left the saloon.
The big man was halfway through a beer when he saw Roman. He turned to the bartender and said, “Bring a cold one.”
Roman joined him at the bar as the bartender put the beer down.
“So?” Givens asked. “Any news?”
“No,” Roman said, “I didn’t find any merchants who saw them.”
“Or they won’t say,” Givens said. “Folks like to mind their own business.”
“We’ll have to see what Donnie and Lefty come up with.”
“It won’t matter,” Givens said. “The barkeep here told me he saw the sheriff in here with two strangers. He thinks they may be the o
nes we’re lookin’ for.”
“How’s he know?”
“He saw a heavily loaded buckboard outside.”
“Does he know where they went?”
“No, but maybe the sheriff does.”
“That whore?”
“She’s wearin’ a badge,” Givens pointed out. “Why don’t we wait for Donnie and Lefty to get back and then we’ll ask ’er?”
Sheriff Miranda Lawson saddled her horse quickly, keeping an eye out so no one could come up behind her. The word she’d gotten was that the man she’d spoken to and three friends were all looking for Clint Adams and his friend, Tesla. Whatever the reason was for that, it couldn’t be good. She also knew they’d find out that she was in the saloon with both men, so she thought it was a good time to get out of town.
She mounted up and rode out of the livery. She figured she could kill two birds with one stone by leaving town and riding to warn Clint Adams. She had a general idea where the house was that he and Tesla were renting. He may have been the Gunsmith, but he still needed some warning that four gunmen were looking for him.
The heavily laden buckboard rode into Gunnison, noisily announcing its arrival. There were two burly men on the seat, looking worn out from the drive from Denver.
Givens and Roman had just stepped out of the saloon as the buckboard came down the street, and the big man put his hand on Roman’s chest to stop him.
“Where do you suppose they’re goin’?” he asked.
“Beats me. Why?”
“Well, the two fellers we’re lookin’ for had a loaded buckboard.”
“So?”
“So suppose this load is also theirs?” Givens asked. “All we’d have to do is follow it.”
“So how do we find out?”
“Easy,” Givens said. “We ask ’em.”
“We gotta stop for some food and beer,” Joe Scott said.
“I can go ya one better,” Les Willard said. “Let’s spend the night. I don’t wanna sleep on the trail again, and we should be able to get this load delivered tomorrow.”
Gunsmith 360 : The Mad Scientist of the West (9781101545997) Page 5