The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book

by Patrick E. Andrews

  “I guess I forgot to tell you I have been instructed to place liens on your farms,” Treadwell said.

  The farmers looked at each other in confusion. Doss Kearns spoke up, asking, “What the hell’s a lien?”

  “It’s a charge levied on property for the satisfaction of a debt on it,” Treadwell explained. “It’s common practice in real estate transactions.”

  Ed McKenna was seething. “So you’ll get your hands on our properties for the price of three years ago and sell it for what it’s worth today.”

  “If I must, then I must,” Treadwell said, working to keep a note of sadness and resignation in his voice. “However, if you pay the loans in full within ninety days, there’ll be no legal action taken whatsoever.”

  Ed’s face went white with rage. “You son of a bitch! If you take my land—“

  Lorimer Jacks drew his revolver and stepped forward. “Let’s not try anything you’ll be sorry for.”

  Treadwell stood up alarmed. “Now see here, all of you! I am an officer of this bank and it is in that capacity that I am acting. Taking physical action against me personally would be useless and I’ll most certainly press charges.”

  “Oh, damn, Mr. Treadwell,” J.R. Dawkins said, groaning under the weight of the problem he and his friends faced. “I just cain’t imagine all this is happening.”

  “A bank is an organization, gentlemen,” Treadwell said. “It’s a group of investors that pool their money for a profit, like any other business. Do you think a merchant could stay in business long by giving away his goods? I’m afraid a combination of bad luck and ill-timing has created this problem for you.”

  “I consider losing my home more than just a problem,” Doss Kearns said. “To me—to all of us—it’s more in line of a catastrophe.”

  “It’s not the end of the world,” Treadwell said. “You can start over again.”

  Doss’ rage was cold and controlled. “You say them words right easy, Mr. Treadwell. Start over. All land is to you is papers and deeds to be reckoned with. But to us it’s life. We draw our survival outta them farms. But not before we put heart, soul, and sweat into ’em ’til out backs break with the effort and our women grow old too fast from their own toil.”

  Treadwell remained silent.

  Doss continued, “Starting over just cain’t be done. How can I draw back my spent strength from the land to take somewheres else. And how can my woman grow younger and stronger so’s she’ll be able to repeat the drudgery of a fresh beginning?” Now Doss lost control as the enormity of his loss overwhelmed him. “God damn you to hell; no! I ain’t leaving and the only way you’ll get me off my place is to kill me!”

  The other farmers shouted their agreement; their voices loud and trembling with rage.

  Treadwell was frightened. “Gentlemen, please!”

  Lorimer Jacks stepped forward with his pistol once more drawn and the hammer pulled back. “Y’all had best watch yourselves,” he warned.

  Doss Kearns forced himself to cool down as he held up his hands in a calming gesture. “There ain’t gonna be no trouble.” He motioned the others out of the office, then glared past Jacks at Treadwell. “Times is changing and that’s a fact. You fellers with the fancy eastern schooling and the stacks of papers have got things pretty well to the point where we cain’t settle things with our guns no more. Maybe that’s a blessing and maybe it ain’t. But one thing is for sure. We’re gonna fight for our farms. If we cain’t fight you then we’ll turn on somebody else and make ’em pay the price. We don’t want it that way, but these sneaky laws and rulings we got out here now is making the choice for us. We’ll take action, Banker John Treadwell, legal or otherwise. You can count on that.”

  The farmers left the office and walked through the lobby. Doss grasped Ed McKenna by the arm. “Is Ben still out at your place?”

  “Yes he is,” Ed answered.

  “C’mon,” Doss said to the group. “We got another solution well worth looking into.”

  ~*~

  The interior of the McKenna barn was somewhat musty, but still much cooler than the weather outside. Doss and the other four men had formed a rough semi-circle, resting on boxes, barrels or any other place where they could settle down. The low-tone of the conversations among them was interrupted by the entrance of Ben McKenna.

  “Howdy,” he said. “Orvie come running out to the field like the house was afire. He said y’all want to see me.”

  “It was nice of you to come so quick, Ben,” Doss said. “Why don’t you sit down and let me explain some things to ever’body?” He waited while Ben rolled out a nail keg for a seat, then turned to the others. “I reckon it’s no secret that as of right now we’re licked.”

  “We’ll fight, by God!” J.R. Dawkins swore.

  “What good would that really do?” Doss asked. “None a’tall and y’all know it. Banker Treadwell’s got the law on his side. If we whupped the county sheriff, then we’d have to fight the state marshal. After him comes the U.S. marshal. And then what? The Army? No, my friends, legally there ain’t a godamned thing we can do.”

  Preacher Buford Turnbull frowned. “We can swear less and not take the Lord’s name in vain!”

  “Buford, I don’t want to offend you, but I happen to be a swearing man,” Doss said. “And I feel like the good Lord has forgive me this weakness long ago because he understands me and knows that deep in my heart I don’t mean it like it sounds. Now if God-On-High can tolerate my bad habits, why cain’t you?”

  “Doss Kearns, the same God-On-High has called me to serve him and preach the Gospel to bring salvation and Christianity to the lost and wicked. God may forgive you this violation of his commandments—and I pray he does—but that sure don’t mean he’s of a mind to have me tolerate it.”

  “Let’s get down to business,” J.R. interrupted. “One way or the other we got to do something.”

  “I’m gonna suggest another way,” Doss said. “Ed McKenna’s brother Ben tells me that he knows where we can get our hands on some gold.”

  “I sure do,” Ben said, an undeniable eagerness in his voice.

  “You know where’s there’s gold?” Buford asked. “Hallelujah!”

  Ben showed a lopsided grin. “Yeah, I do. But it ain’t the kind we’ll be able to prospect for. Fact is; somebody else has already dug it up.”

  “Did they lose it then?” Zachary Steuben asked.

  “No, it ain’t lost,” Ben explained. “In fact, we’ll have to sort of help it get lost…if you catch my drift.”

  “Are you figgering for us to steal it?” J.R. asked.

  Doss spoke up. “If we have to steal this gold to save our homes, then we’ll do it.”

  Buford Turnbull leaped to his feet. “Doss Kearns, if—“

  “Now hold it there!” Doss interrupted. “Before you start preaching, listen up. I don’t know the full particulars myself. Ben dropped a hint or two and suggest the idee. Let’s hear him out before we decide anything about the situation.” He motioned to Ben. “Go ahead and tell the full story.”

  “Boys, there’s a little ol’ gold mine up a ways in the Rockies over Colorado way,” Ben began. “It don’t amount to a whole lot, but there’s enough there to solve your problems and even have a mite left over for any more rainy days that might be coming your way.”

  Zachary Steuben had his doubts. “There ain’t no mining operation that’s gonna let a bunch of fellers waltz in and rob ’em. They must have a whole lot of guards around the place.”

  “This ain’t no ordinary mine,” Ben clarified. “It’s been abandoned by the comp’ny that was operating it because it don’t pay off enough no more. After the miners left, a church group moved in and began poking at what’s left of the lode for about five years now. They shoulda scratched enough outta there to help out all of us.”

  “Now hold on!” Buford Turnbull thundered. “We ain’t about to break the Lord’s commandments against other Christian folks.”

  “These ain
’t reg’lar Christians,” Ben explained. “They’re a bunch of crazies. The men each got two or three wives and they all live in one big house.”

  “What are they?” J.R. asked. “Mormons or something?”

  “Nope. They call themselves the Brethren of the Communal Faith,” Ben replied. “They got a leader by the name of Elder Brother. He tells ’em ever’thing to do.”

  “Whatever they are, they ain’t gonna give up their gold,” Zachary insisted again. “Leastways they’ll try to get it back.”

  “The Brethren won’t do nothing,” Ben said. “In the first place they moved out to that area ’cause there ain’t nobody else close by. I reckon most folks has give ’em hell in other places where they tried to settle. They don’t exactly want to advertise their presence to the world. And they sure as hell don’t want nobody else to know about that gold mine. I figger we can move in there quick, hit ’em and ride out. After that they might tighten up quite a bit and make sure they got guards all over the place. But right now they feel as safe and snug as peas in a pod.”

  “How’d you find out about it?” Doss asked.

  “I met a gal in Caldera, Colorado that used to be one of ’em,” Ben explained. Then he grinned. “They throwed her out for breaking a rule or two. I reckon she grew sweet on me ’cause one night we was talking when she started telling me all about that gold them Brethren musta dug out by now. I started asking questions and the more she told me that more I had to see for myself.”

  “Was she a pretty gal, Ben?” J.R. asked.

  “Forget if she was pretty or not,” Doss said impatiently. “Get on with the story, Ben.”

  “I went up there and spent a week or so just lightfooting it around the area,” Ben went on. “I found where they lived and it was like that gal told me. There was one big house for ever’body to live in and other smaller places for stables, workshops and what have you. They’d planted about ever’ level piece of ground around and spent most their time scurrying to and fro. Boys, they was the busiest dang folks I ever seen in my life.”

  “What about the mine?” Ed asked his brother.

  “It wasn’t there at the main settlement,” Ben answered. “Things was prob’ly set up that-a-way on purpose. It was about five miles away and danged hard to get to from where they lived. I reckon they figgered if somebody came poking around they’d be attracted to where most of the activity seemed to be.”

  “Did you find the mine?” Doss asked.

  “I sure did,” Ben answered. “It was pretty wore out all right, but they was bringing ore outta there. They had a sluice working next to a small crick. They’d dump the paydirt in there and pan out the gold. Then they put the nuggets in bags and store them in the smelter building. The operation was tiny, I’ll admit, but after five years they ought to be enough to help y’all out.”

  Buford could contain himself no longer. “How deep into sin are we sinking? This is a clear violation of God’s will. I shudder just to think of the punishment He’ll heap on us if’n we do this awful thing!”

  “I don’t give a damn!” Doss spat. “I ain’t giving my land to no godamned bank! Never!”

  Ben spoke diplomatically to Buford, saying, “Think about it this way. Them Brethren are evil. They got more’n one wife, all live together in one big house and things like that. Hell, they even dress alike. They wear black clothes and the women got li’l ol’ white bonnets. You know what they’re gonna do with that money, don’t you? They’re gonna use it to try and convert other folks to their way of living. I don’t think the good Lord wants us to take more’n one wife and pool all our property ’til we got nothing to call our own. Do you?”

  “O’course not,” Buford replied.

  Ben was warming up now. “Maybe we’re instruments of God. Suppose this whole thing with Banker Treadwell was the Lord’s way of getting us to go after them Brethren and take away their gold so’s they cain’t spread their evil ways. After we get that gold, I’ll bet God is gonna cause an earthquake or avalanche to destroy them Brethren. Yes sir! That’s what I think.”

  “A flood!” Buford replied with a surge of enthusiasm. “A big ol’ flood up there in the Rockies that’ll wash the sin clear of the place.”

  “Think on it, Buford,” Doss said.

  Buford stood up. “Boys, you’ll have to excuse me. I’m gonna leave you for a few minutes and go to the back of the barn and meditate on this. I know if I get down on my knees and pray real hard, God’ll send me a message and let me know if this is his way or not.”

  “Go ahead, Buford,” Doss said. “I got a couple of questions for Ben here while you’re praying back there.”

  “What more do you want to know?” Ben asked cheerfully.

  “If this is so all-fired easy, how come you ain’t done it yet?”

  “I couldn’t take away enough for myself to make it worth it,” Ben explained. “I sure didn’t want to ruin anything by taking a bag of gold for each of my saddlebags. That’d put the Brethren on guard and nobody could ever hit ’em again.”

  “How come you never got together with a bunch of other fellers before now and done it?”

  “I didn’t know none I could trust,” Ben answered truthfully. “There’s some folks in this world that’d shoot you in the back for gold or silver. To tell you the truth I come back here to fetch up Ed for this same job. The two of us together could do pretty good.”

  Doss nodded. “Then it ain’t been too long since you checked this thing out, huh?”

  “Nope. I come straight here from Colorado. It looks like it might turn out to be a lucky thing for y’all, don’t it?”

  “Or terrible unlucky,” Zachary Steuben said.

  “Suppose we get the gold,” Doss said. “How’re we gonna use it to pay off them notes? Banker Treadwell can insist on cash money and delay things Especially if it’s been stole.”

  “I know another banker,” Ben said. “This one’s in Amarillo down Texas way. He buys gold and silver without asking any questions. So just in case something happens and there’s some rumor about a gold robbery, he won’t be concerned about it. His price ain’t quite up to market value, but that’s the easiest way of turning some merchandise into cash money without arousing any undue curiosity from the law.”

  “Then how’re we gonna explain to anybody how we got rich all of a sudden?” Zachary asked.

  “What differ’nce does it make?” Ben asked. “Tell that banker y’all been saving it up or something. At least he’s got to take it, don’t he. It’s U.S. cash, by God!”

  “Yeah,” Doss said. “He cain’t turn it down.”

  Buford Turnbull rejoined them, his face aglow with righteous glee. “Hallelujah, ever’body! I got down there and hunched my shoulders and I prayed…prayed! I asked the Lord about that gold and the more I asked, the better I felt about it ’til a feeling of holy contentment spread through my whole body. Them grasshoppers was sent by the Lord and not to plague us, but to point us the way to serving our Maker. That puts us in a state of grace. I know it’s the Lord’s mission and we got to do it. Yes, sir! We got to do it!”

  “Amen,” Doss said under his breath. “We’re off to steal some gold.” He fumbled for his pipe and lit it before speaking again, looking at Ben. “So how do we get started?”

  “We’re gonna need horses for riding,” Ben said. “ Can y’all come up with one for each of you? I notice you use mostly mules and wagons.”

  “Sure,” Doss said. “That’s no problem. But our horses is for working. None of ’em can gallop worth a damn.”

  “That’s better yet,” Ben said. “We’re all gonna have gold in our saddlebags. The stuff is heavy, so the stronger the horses are, the better.” He paused meaningfully. “What kind of shooting irons do y’all have?”

  Ed answered, “You know about my Remington six-gun and the ten-gauge shotgun.”

  “I got a Colt Navy cap and ball,” Doss said. “It’s old but works fine. I can bring a Winchester carbine along too.”
<
br />   J.R Dawkins revealed his Henry rifle while Buford added, “I got a Winchester forty-four-forty rifle.”

  “I have a Smith and Wesson forty-five revolver,” Zachary Steuben said.

  “Good,” Ben replied. “That’ll do us fine. It fact, it’s prob’ly more’n we need, but bring ’em along anyhow. And don’t forget some bullets too.”

  “There’s something else,” Zachary said. “What’re we gonna tell the womenfolk? They sure ain’t gonna be happy about our robbing somebody.”

  “I thought of that,” Ben said. “Let’s tell ’em I got this gold claim on a river in Colorado, see? The gold is washing away and we made a deal amongst us. I give y’all a chance to pan the place dry and you pay me with a portion of your shares. What do y’all think?”

  “That sounds reasonable,” Zachary agreed.

  “Sure,” J.R. Dawkins agreed. “They’ll believe a story like that.”

  “One more thing,” Ben McKenna said. “I worked this thing out, so I expect an extry share like as if we was mining for sure.”

  There was a shared agreement expressed among the farmers.

  Chapter Four

  Supper was long over and the moon was high by the time Ed McKenna got around to packing for the trip to Colorado. His brother Ben, who traveled light, had finished preparing for the journey, and had left the farm earlier to go into Dodge City to visit the saloons before the trip.

  When Ed made the final ties on the bedroll he walked over to the table where Elvira and Orvie sat watching him. “That’s that,” he said.

  “Some packing,” Elvira said. “Saddlebags and a bedroll along with a shovel and gunnysack. I figger the shovel is for digging gold, but what’s that gunnysack for?”

  “Extry clothes and vittles,” Ed answered, feeling a bit sheepish about the digging implement. Ben had suggested the farmers take picks and shovels to enhance the gold story.

  “Why don’t you put that stuff in the saddlebags?”

  “They’re for the gold,” Ed explained.

  “Are you gonna ride the mule bareback?” Elvira asked. “If you do, you’ll have to have the saddlebags across you lap.”