Where Fortune Lies

by James Short

  Tom had explained poker to her. He had promised that if they ever met in daylight, he would show her how to play—that was when he thought she had use of her eyes. Penelope was made aware that more than fortunes were won and lost over the poker table; sometimes a man would lose his pride of manhood, sometimes his life, and sometimes, when three deuces beat his pairs of kings and aces, even his ability to believe in a benevolent divinity. Tom had explained that luck at cards is a gift that is doled out equally and the man who wins is the one who knows how to best use this gift.

  Kurtz seemed eager to engage Penelope in conversation. “Your man here is a damn fool. He gave himself up on the condition he could play for your freedom. Now he’s a cheater and like most cheaters, he don’t know the fine points of poker. He came here with five thousand and pretended there was another twenty thousand on the way. He wanted to trick me and bring his friends instead of his money. Now he is down to less than a thousand, and if I bet high enough he won’t be able to cover it. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. But no matter how much I bet, he will hang tomorrow, and his last sight will be of my new bride at my side. Even if he produces the money which he claims is going to be loaned him, he won’t win.”

  “Is there no hope?” Penny asked.

  “I’ll be broad-minded for your sake, Miss, and pretend there’s hope. I won’t bet too high. I’m enjoying the game. Hell, I’ll loan him money, and we can play through his trial up to the hour of his appointment at the gallows.”

  Penelope sensed the desperation in Tom’s silence. She hardened her face to avoid crying. Several more hands were played while each minute died a slow death. Kurtz kept up his cruel banter. Tomàs used the minimum words necessary to play the game: “Raise,” “See and raise,” “Call,” “Fold.” And then what followed would be the dull clink of coins hitting the wooden table or the rustle of unfolding paper money or the sweeping sound of the pot being gathered in. Every few minutes, Madeleine would find another reason for her daughter to go back to her room. Penelope ignored her. Beyond that, in the tense atmosphere, she was unable to formulate a clear thought.

  Finally, Kurtz addressed Penelope, “Come on over, dearie, and take a look at what I’m holding in my hand. He’s about to put his last coin in the pot, and your beau thinks he can beat my royalty. Come on over, and I’ll explain to you the finer points of the game, and explain it to him too so he can hang tomorrow a more knowledgeable man.”

  Penelope stood and hesitantly directed her steps towards Kurtz’s voice, hoping that there wasn’t any furniture in the way.

  “Don’t lollygag! I require my wife be prompt when I tell her to do a thing.”

  Guided by cigar smoke and his rather loud breathing, she took eight steps forward. Suddenly, she felt ten sharp nails dig into her arm.

  “Go back to your room, darling daughter,” her mother whispered hoarsely. Penelope shook the arm free. The sharp nails belonged to frail hands. Making a whining curse, Madeleine fell back.

  “Come closer. I don’t bite.” Kurtz chuckled. “At least, not until tomorrow night.”

  Two more steps and she felt the edge of the table press against her thigh.

  “Why are you looking at his ugly face? Aren’t all of these faces, these royal faces, a prettier sight?”

  The front door opened and a man said in a high voice, “I can see the wagon coming back up the road, boss. What do you want us to do with the beaner?”

  Kurtz gave a soft laugh of contentment. “I wonder if you have any friends hiding in that wagon. But that isn’t possible, is it? Why is he coming back? Could he be bringing more money?”

  “You saw me send him. He’s bringing exactly what you heard me tell him to bring,” Tom said, the last words hissed.

  “Well, well, more money is welcomed. I was afraid you’d have to ask me for a loan.”

  The door closed.

  Was this the moment, Penelope wondered. She took in a deep breath and said, “It’s hot in here.”

  “Raise a hundred which will be here in a moment,” Tom stated as if he wanted to keep her from saying anything else.

  “Excuse me,” Penelope said. “It’s so hot in here.” She turned towards where she had heard the front door shut. She began to walk, but halfway across the room bumped into a small table.

  “What’s the matter? Are you drunk?” Kurtz said, irritated.

  “No, just blind.”

  He snorted. “Weak eyes, huh?”

  She took a dozen more steps, not quite colliding with the door. She felt along the wood for the handles.

  “I wouldn’t be expecting anybody out there except my boys, Miss, and they ain’t about to let you run off.”

  “I’m letting in fresh air for me and my beau.” Penelope opened one of the great double doors. She could hear the wagon approaching. She held out an arm like Franklin had instructed her, hoping wildly that he would come, take it and guide her out of danger.

  “Sit down, Miss, before I have you tied to the chair!” Kurtz yelled and then said to Tom with a low dangerous rumble, “Deal, or I'm going to end this game now with a bullet to your brain.”

  “Penny, I need more fresh air,” Tom said suddenly in a loud hopeful voice.

  “Like hell you do!” Kurtz slammed his fist on the table.

  “More fresh air, Penny!” Tom shouted.

  She hesitated. There was something wrong with the approaching wagon.

  “Check the beaner’s cargo,” Kurtz yelled to the guard.

  “Right away, boss,” the guard replied.

  As Jacinto Was Saying

  “Seeing I posed no threat, and having had about as much fun out of me as could be had, and being tired of the odor of the tramp, my skinny companion and my silent companion rode on ahead. Most of the other guards who were usually congregating by the front door had taken up positions in ditches and behind rocks down the slope to shoot at whoever might try to approach. A waist-high fog was beginning to crawl towards them. I looked at the open door again and saw the figure of a young woman. So there she was. I strained my eyes to make out the features on her face. I gave my horses a tiny flick of the whip, and they picked up speed. A plan hovered just beyond my conscious thought.

  “I then remembered the thousands of hours I slaved away in the gold mines in Brazil, driving donkeys hauling carts full of ore. In many of the tunnels, there wasn’t an inch on either side of the cart. I became pretty good at getting the donkeys through those narrow passages. The open half door wasn’t nearly as wide as my wagon, but if the other half were open, then just maybe I could squeeze through. Then what? Then anything. My companions had now dismounted and were busy rolling cigarettes. So I picked up a little more speed.

  “One of the two guards who still remained out front was lighting the skinny man’s cigarette, and the other was jawing with him, and neither seemed particularly worried that I might be coming on too fast. The coffin with the tramp began to knock against the more securely fixed coffin with the gold. The rattling increased as I increased speed. Now I could see that the guards were showing a bit of concern. They still didn’t suspect what I was about. How could they?

  “Three more flicks of the whip and my dear horses were now nearly at full gallop. Would the girl hear me if I yelled to her? It was too late for any such measures. My only hope was for her to figure out my intentions. At that moment, I prayed for a payback on all the luck I had missed out on in my life.

  “Slow down!” The silent one finally found his tongue as the wagon tore through the yard and the horses clattered up the steps towards the half-open door.

  Three Uninvited Guests—Two of Them Rather Large

  Penelope concentrated on what might be wrong. The wagon seemed to be coming fast. Tom must have also thought that. Why was Tom also talking about more fresh air? He was trying to give her a message. God, am I as stupid as I am blind? It has to be something as plain as day. She heard Kurtz stand up. There was the crash as the wagon ran over something outside, followed by curses.
The wagon didn't stop.

  “Penny!” The sound of the hooves on the cobblestone driveway drowned out the rest of what he was saying. Why was it coming so fast? “Penny! The…”

  “Grab the girl!” Kurtz yelled. “And close the goddamn…”

  That was it! She pulled with all of her strength at the other half of the door. As it swung open, she could hear the hooves of the horses clattering onto the porch. She felt their steamy breath practically in her face, and she heard the wheels splintering the parquet floor. The wagon was inside. She was thrown against a wall. Struggled to her feet, Penny reached up as if she wanted to be lifted out of the chaos happening around her.

  Jacinto in the Midst

  “The coffin with the tramp was hurled to the ground as I drove the wagon up the porch steps, and he popped out of it with his arms spread as spritely as a young man at a dance. The guards who were following shot at him. He gave his life again, this time valiantly for a cause.

  “That is the one thing I saw because I didn’t want to see the other thing. But instead of crashing into wood, I was inside. Penelope was so near the door that the horses almost trampled her. Candles fell, and gas lamps broke and soon all was struggling shadows and confusion. I steered the horses towards the table which had been knocked over. Tomàs was stomping on Kurtz’s hand which held a gun but was unable to make him let go. Then he dove between the wheels as I attempted to maneuver the wagon around the table.

  “I thought I had crushed him, but he came up on the other side and grabbed his young miss. He threw her and himself into the back of the wagon. The horses were rearing and breaking all sorts of furniture. They were almost on top of Kurtz, who had to roll out of their way. His men were filling the air with bullets, although there was no good target because of the darkness and the smoke. The mistress of the house was sitting on the floor in a corner, chuckling. It was amazing that through all the noise, I could hear that weird chuckle.

  “Kurtz rose up and yelled at the men to shoot the horses. He now took careful aim at them, but his revolver was empty—probably discharged when Tomàs was stomping his hand. My horses were now turned towards the door, but the poor beasts had reached such a level of panic that they were beyond my control. I tried to drive them forward, screaming prayers and curses. They began to pivot the wagon back around. I imagined our death was now sealed. We were almost broadside to the guards blazing away from the doorway. I felt helpless and far too fat a target as the horses completed the circle. Tomàs completely covered the young miss with his body, protecting her from the bullets. I threw him the gun and box of cartridges I had hidden under the seat.

  Then, as if a great hand had thrown them, the horses surged forward. The roughnecks, seeing the wild foaming creatures come at them, scattered. Like a miracle, we came out into the fresh late afternoon air. If we only had a second left in our lives, the cool air would have made it a wonderful one. I glanced backward. The contagion of my horses’ panic had spread to the mounts of Kurtz’s boys, and they were busily trying to calm them enough to get into the saddles.”

  What Penelope Saw

  Men rushed by Penelope firing guns but ignoring her. Furniture seemed to be hurled with force against all the walls. Her mother started a high pitched wail that became a low crazy laugh which was the only constant in the cacophony. Still, Penelope stretched out her arms as if that could mean anything. A window over the door shattered. She felt the glass fall on her hair. She strained her arms upward. Suddenly, a horse, a huge monstrous horse seemed to be on top of her, knocking her to the side. The hem of her dress was caught underneath a wheel. Then an arm hooked her behind the back, and she was lifted past the revolving wheel onto the wagon. She was certain that it was Tom pushing her down and firing the gun. She heard the driver in a voice not entirely unfamiliar alternately swearing at and praising the horses. She lifted her head and felt a rush of fresh cool air hit her face. They were outside, the horses galloping so fast that they seemed to be falling through space.

  “Did you bring the gold?” Tomàs yelled at Jacinto as he struggled to reload his gun.

  “In the coffin,” Jacinto screamed over the sound of the scrambling horses

  Penelope tried to raise herself. Tom pushed her down violently as bullets whizzed overhead. She then heard the lid of a coffin lifted and tipped over the side. She heard the clinking of the gold coins as Tomàs scooped up a handful and threw them. After two more handfuls tossed off the back of the wagon, he said, “I think that will keep them busy.”

  The gunfire receded although another bullet hit the headboard above her. They turned onto a narrow cart trail and then stopped.

  “There will be no place safe for you, Tomàs,” Jacinto whispered hoarsely.

  “No, my friend. I believe there’s one place where they won’t look.” Tomàs lifted Penelope down. His hand softly caressed her cheek, and he said into her ear, “You are my sole treasure now.”

  “Pretty nasty job they did on you,” Thornton said, observing Franklin, who had appeared at the jail with blood seeping down his face from a livid cut below his right ear.

  “I’ll be alright. Nothing is broken, and I cannot claim the same for my two assailants who didn’t have the advantage of being taught to fight on the docks of Marseille.” Franklin had been so intent on the problems at hand that he hadn’t given his injuries a second thought.

  “It was a damn fool plan! So Penny is alone. Tom is as good as lost. The mansion is guarded like a fortress. The town is patrolled. Tom’s friends are watched. And we are to be put out of the way, which is why they’ll try to kill you again.”

  “So Kurtz wins?” Franklin said in a tone which indicated he wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “We can’t do much against thirty well-armed pistoleros until the other sheriffs arrive tomorrow. Tom might not survive the night, but we’ll rescue Penny. My advice is you lay low so when the opportunity comes, you’ll be there for Penelope.”

  Suddenly, gunfire broke the outside stillness. Thornton cocked his head, frowned and stepped outside into the thickening dusk. Franklin followed him across the street, then up to a small knoll behind the jail that provided a vantage point. Several men on horseback galloped down the road from Boller’s mansion, shooting at a wagon. It was impossible in the fading light and opaque air to tell who was driving the wagon, but the situation appeared hopeless. Franklin shut his eyes.

  “Looks like Tom was more resourceful than we gave him credit for,” Thornton said.

  Franklin opened his eyes and saw the six pursuers scrambling in the dirt on their hands and knees. “Do you think Penny was in the wagon?”

  “I couldn’t tell. I’m going to investigate. If you can get there safely, go to Catspaw Cove, where we planned to rendezvous.”

  When Thornton arrived at the spot, Kurtz was addressing the erstwhile pursuers, now with bulging pockets and sagging pants, “It’s this way boys, I’ll pretend I didn’t see what I just saw if you get me the two of them. Hell, you might even pick up more loose change along the way.” The faces of the men showed eagerness, guilt and varying degrees of distrust as they mounted and galloped off.

  Kurtz snorted and turned to Thornton. “I’ll do what it takes to flush out the rascal including burning every goddamn house to the ground, not disincluding yours. If that doesn’t sit well with you, bring me Mr. Deering and Miss Boller. I’ll even do you the favor of waiting until the next county to hang him.” Kurtz then addressed Barnwell who had rode up and couldn’t keep from staring with open envy at the men disappearing down the road, “I’m holding you answerable whether our good sheriff here works for us or against us.”

  “Sorry, old boy,” Thornton told Barnwell as Kurtz rode away, “You’re in a pickle if there ever was one. I want this Tom Deering too, but if you interfere with me, you’re obstructing the law, which justifies me shooting you. If you allow me to do my job, not only will you not be shot, but also might pick up extra coin like your friends who were rooting around in the d
irt here.”

  Barnwell frowned and nodded. When they passed by Madame Cherise’s, Thornton gave Barnwell three dollars and told him, “I suggest you find a way to amuse yourself for the time being. I’ll come back for you in a while. Think about it: if you turn a blind eye to me for an hour or two, I’ll turn a blind eye to whatever you may find, which I suspect your comrades will not.”

  Barnwell looked doubtful but took the money. With the night falling fast and thick bands of fog creeping across the landscape like moving hedges, Thornton decided to continue on foot to better take advantage of the cover.

  On the way to Catspaw Cove, he came upon two of Kurtz’s gang in animated discussion. “I don’t care what Mr. K says. I won’t be bought like a cheap whore for two dollars a day when there’s gold for the taking. Bertram collected four double eagles. Four! A lot of our boys have already got their share of the stash, and here we are left out just because we have to help old Kurtz hang a man which never done us no harm. Ain’t no sense in it.” On seeing Thornton, they fell silent not bothering to challenge him.

  Just out of sight of Kurtz’s men, Yelda flew at him from behind a bush, babbling almost incoherently, her frightened rabbit eyes blinking rapidly. It took a minute to calm her enough to learn Tom and April had commissioned her to find him and tell him where they were hiding.

  Franklin knocked softly on Penny’s bedroom door. Yelda had also ambushed him and, after screaming when she saw the cut on his face, gave him the information he needed. He opened the door and saw Penny sitting by the window alone.

  “Where’s Tom?” he asked.

  “I’m so scared. Tom said the last place they’d expect to find me is where I’m supposed to be, and then he said he needed to collect his things. I think he just wants to get at Kurtz.”