by Wesley Ellis
“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She had to be helped down, so weak was she after giving all her strength to the effort she had just undergone.
Even the brothers had to put their backs to the job and work to get the iron handcar to move up the slight incline. Once on the main track, however, they had to set its brake to keep it from rolling down the mountainside.
“Jake, can you image how fast this sucker would fly down to Sacramento? Be the ride of our lives, it would!”
“Otto, you mean you’re a-thinkin’ what I think you’re a-thinkin‘?”
“Sure! Hell, in four hours, we could be in Sacramento and save ourselves the fare to boot!”
“Now you’re a-talkin‘! Let’s do ’er! Come on, lady, we’ll take you for the most excitin’ ride of your life!”
Jessie jumped on the car as they released the brake. The handles began to move up and down like a teeter-totter, faster and faster.
“Woowee!” Otto screamed. “Now this sucker is movin‘!”
The brothers laughed mightily. Jessie just hugged the car and prayed that it would make the first curve they came upon without flying off the tracks. She peered ahead into the gathering gloom. Their speed increased and her eyes began to water from the cold and wind. This was crazy, absolutely insane. But the brothers were right—it was the fastest and wildest ride of her life.
They shot through another tunnel out of absolute darkness into semidarkness. Jessie was numb. They had been screaming down the mountain at an unbelievable speed. The brake had busted loose and the handcar was totally out of control. Black shadows whipped past. Snow was falling and she was lying flat on the floor of the car, hanging on with her fingertips, legs, and toes. The brothers were no longer laughing with excitement. She could not see them clearly, only hear their screeches whenever the car lifted up on two wheels as it rounded another curve and they frantically shifted their weight to keep it from becoming airborne.
She saw a bright star like the sun. It grew larger and larger like a ball of fire as they raced down the mountain. Suddenly Jessie realized that they were hurtling straight for a huge fire. She screamed a warning and saw Ki drag a man off the tracks and leap for safety.
Jessie let go of the handcar and rolled. She felt her body lift and then smash into a deep snowbank. She heard a howl of pain and twisted to see the handcar with both brothers explode through the fire and be swallowed by the night. A moment later, she was being pulled out of the snow and Ki was shaking her.
“Jessie, are you all right?”
Not yet trusting her voice, she nodded.
Normally imperturbable, Ki was clearly shaken as he turned to stare at what had been his fire. Turning back to Jessie, his handsome face reflected shock and then a measure of wonder.
“Jessie,” he said very seriously, “I think you should have just waited for the next train.”
Chapter 3
They had waited until the westbound train came rumbling through and then they flagged it down. Because the train was on a fixed schedule, they had been forced to return to Sacramento, where they had immediately sought out a doctor to attend to the injured Bonaday.
“How is he?” Jessie asked when the doctor came out of the examining room.
“He’ll be all right, but a couple of more blows to the head and he might have been finished.” The doctor moved in closer to Ki. His fingers examined the knots and lacerations on Ki’s scalp. “You could use a few stitches yourself, young man.”
“No, thanks,” Ki said, taking a step back.
“Suit yourself. I should tell you before I leave that Mr. Bonaday owes his life to his own thick skull and to your ability to keep him warm and dry. He was in shock, and that can be fatal to a man his age who is not cared for immediately. Do you know medicine?”
“A little,” Ki admitted. “Mostly Oriental medicine.”
“Oh, that,” the doctor replied condescendingly. “Well, keep the man off his feet for a day or two and he should be fit to travel to Reno. I have given him some powders for a headache. If you want some as well, I can...”
Ki shook his head. The doctor shrugged and left them to go inside and visit with Bonaday.
To Jessie, the stage-line owner looked far worse now than he had when she had seen him lying in the snow. His eyes were both purplish and there was a huge bandage around his head. It was obvious that he was in considerable pain, and yet he was anything but docile.
“Well,” he demanded, looking at them belligerently, “do you two still think I’ve been making up stories about a group of men trying to ruin and kill me?”
Both Ki and Jessie shook their heads. “The problem,” Jessie said pointedly, “is how to find out who’s behind this and stop them.”
“No identification on the man I found, one of the pair that tried to kill Mr. Bonaday,” Ki said. “He was dead when I found him and couldn’t help us by telling who paid for the job.”
“Damn the luck!” Bonaday shouted, then winced from the pain he’d inflicted upon himself. “Sometimes I think that half the people in Reno are up against me. I know I’ve accused that many.”
“Who is running the stage that is trying to put you out of business?”
“His name is Lee Ford. He’s the senior honcho at the Sierra Stage Line. Ford is a short, fat, bald-headed sonofabitch with a waxed mustache that is redder than a baby‘s—well, it’s mighty red. He and I have tangled two or three times, but since I know he’s nothing more than a hired man, killin’ him isn’t worth getting hung for myself. I’m too damned wild to ever let anyone send me to prison.”
Jessie shook her head. “We don’t want either of those things to happen to you, Daniel. Somehow, we have to penetrate the conspiracy and find out who is behind the sabotage, robberies, and murder attempts.”
“It’ll be the folks who stand to gain the most money,” Bonaday told them.
“Who owns the Sierra Stage Line?”
“Damned if I know. I tried to find out but was told it’s a corporation and a lot of the money behind the operation is coming in from outside Nevada. But you can bet there are some local sharks swimming in that sewer as well.”
“Then we must find out their identities,” Jessie said. “And to have any chance of doing that, we have to create false identities for ourselves.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Ki said. “If whoever is behind all this knew our purpose, we would never learn anything. What do you have in mind?”
Jessie had been thinking about it for the past hour or two. “We have to be people who have a reason to be involved with the Bonaday Stage Line, or at least have something to gain by either its success or failure.”
“Maybe I could be Bonaday’s old friend?” Ki suggested.
“You’re much too young,” Jessie said. She thought a moment longer, then added, “What if you were the son of a rich Oriental who lives in San Francisco? They know that Bonaday went there—why not to meet your father and seek a lifesaving infusion of money through a potential partnership?”
Ki nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, and that’s why I’m so interested in learning all I can about the stage-line business. I need to advise my rich father.”
“Exactly.”
“Now wait a minute,” Bonaday cautioned. “If they think that Ki and his imaginary Oriental father are going to invest in my company, won’t they try to kill him?”
“That’s the idea,” Ki said quietly. “Or at least discourage me from thinking you have any chance of surviving their competing stage line. Either way, I will be a magnet for trouble.”
Bonaday was not too happy with that and said so. “You might also get your head blown off, Ki.”
Ki acknowledged this possibility with a smile. “We don’t know who they are, so we have to bring them to us.”
Jessie had complete faith in Ki’s ability to take care of himself, but she wasn’t about to allow him to take all the risks. “If you’re going to play the rich young investor, then I’m going to p
lay the poor money-grasping relative.”
Bonaday shook his head. “I don’t have any relatives besides my two kids. Most of the time, I wish I didn’t even have them.”
“You have just acquired a niece,” Jessie said. “Tell your son and daughter that I am the black sheep of the family. The girl born out of wedlock who went astray and is no damn good.”
“You’re too damn pretty to be bad.”
“Some of the most beautiful women in history have been rotten to the core. It will work. I’ll come to town without a penny to my name and be out to fleece you somehow of your money.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.” Jessie smiled. “I’m hoping that your enemies will tell me.”
“I better tell Roxy and Billy exactly what we are up to.”
“No,” Jessie said emphatically. “You’ve already said that your daughter doesn’t know the difference between friends and enemies. We can’t take the chance on her. Not until this is all over.”
“You’re right,” Bonaday said reluctantly. “That girl is wild as a hare and whatever I want her to do, she goes ahead and does just the opposite to spite me.”
Ki leaned forward. “What about your son? I imagine that I’ll be working with him some. If his life is in danger, I want to be close at hand.”
Bonaday smiled grimly. “Billy Bonaday is a man full growed and twenty-six years old. And I’ll tell you another thing, if he ever thought for a single minute that some half-yellow, skinny fella like you was there to protect him, he’d blow higher than a damned volcano. Billy is tough as horseshoes and he backs down to nothing or nobody. He doesn’t listen to anyone worth a damn, either. Stubborn, hot-tempered, always barging into what he don’t know nothing about. Always chasin’ pretty women—and cat-chin’ them. Someday some husband is going to shoot his —well, never mind that. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him.”
Jessie didn’t like the sound of Bonaday’s two offspring at all. From what she had heard so far, both Roxy and Billy were going to be far more trouble than help. That was too bad, because things were looking difficult enough without that kind of additional family complication.
Jessie stood up. “The doctor said you need to rest another day or two before traveling. Ki, you and Mr. Bonaday can take the train after the one that I’m going to take to Reno.”
Ki could not hide his unhappiness at the plan. “I wish you would let us go first and then come a few days later. If anything happened and I was over here... ”
“Nothing will happen,” Jessie promised. “I’ll just let it be known in town that I am looking for a way to fleece Mr. Bonaday. I’ll say that he owed my mother a favor and I came to collect the debt. Maybe ask for some money or at least a good job. It will work. I’ll also let it be known that I am bitter over the way that the Bonaday family ostracized my poor mother and treated her like she never existed.”
Ki nodded. “You’ll say you intend to get even with your uncle.”
“Exactly.”
Bonaday shook his head. “I still say you’re just too damn beautiful a woman to convince anyone that you are no good. That, and you look...”
Jessie waited. She needed to hear what else was required to seem convincing in this unusual role of a down-and-out, grasping relative.
“I look what?”
“Too rich,” Bonaday blurted. “Your clothes, your hair, everything about you smells of class and money.”
Jessie laughed. “You should see me at the Circle Star Ranch during a roundup. I rope and brand cattle, work right beside my cowboys, and I can tell you that they wouldn’t think I smell anything but bad out on the range!”
“Maybe so,” Bonaday conceded, “but on your worst day a man would walk naked through an acre of cactus to saddle up with you in bed.”
Jessie blushed. “You have a way with words, Mr. Bonaday.”
“Hell,” he said, “wait until you hear the sweet nothin’s that jackass of a son of mine will whisper in your pretty, pink ear.”
I canhardly wait, Jessie thought as she set about planning how she could look evil-hearted.
The train she took back over the Sierras almost didn’t make it. An avalanche covered the tracks just east of Donner Pass and the train was delayed six hours. It happened twice more, despite their passing under miles of snowshed tunnels built into the slopes of the mountains just to prevent that sort of thing from happening. But at last, they were following the raging Truckee River into the high desert flatland to Reno. Jessie climbed off the train and all she had with her was a single, threadbare valise. She wore a man’s workcoat and heavy woolen trousers and her shoes were broken and run-down at the heels. A slouch hat was pulled low over her brow and her lovely hair was bunched up in a knot under its crown. Unless a man looked closely, he would not even have guessed Jessie was a young woman, much less a rich, beautiful, and very shapely one.
“Where can I find the Bonaday Stage Line?” she asked a well-dressed business type who was probably waiting for some associate arriving by train from the coast.
“Down on South Virginia Street below the Truckee River about a half mile, mister... say, are you a woman?”
Jessie sneered and said boldly, “You got enough money, you can find out for yourself.”
The man backed away as if she were poisonous. “Not interested,” he said shortly. “But your kind can always scrape up a few fools willing to part with their money.”
Jessie nodded. She had passed her first test and strode off feeling as if her disguise and manner might just be convincing enough to serve her purpose. She headed down the street walking in long strides like a man, and even so it took her almost an hour to reach the stage-company offices.
When she entered, the place was nearly empty except for a few men lounging around the stove keeping warm. They gave her no more than a glance and went back to their conversation.
“Where can I find Daniel Bonaday?” she asked loudly.
The men stopped talking and stared at her, realizing she was a young woman. “What do you want to see him about?” one of the men asked.
“That’s between Bonaday and me alone, mister.”
“You want to buy a ticket and ride the stage south, I can sell it to you as well as he can.”
“And who might you be?” Jessie asked, looking hard at the tall, rakishly handsome young man who was the spitting image of his father.
“Who’s asking?”
“Vickie Wilson.”
“That don’t mean nothing to me. I’m Billy Bonaday and if you don’t have the money to pay the fare, you might as well shuck it on out of here because—”
Jessie didn’t let him finish. She pulled off her hat, shook her long, wavy hair loose, and let it fall to her shoulders. Bonaday had told her his son had a weakness for women; she was about to find out if that were true. “Because nothin‘, Billy. Don’t you know who I am?”
She had caught him off-balance and she had no intention of letting him gain the upper hand now. “Hell, Billy, I am your long-lost cousin, Vickie! My mother and your father was brother and sister!”
Young Bonaday’s mouth fell open. He closed it with a snap. “The hell you say! My father didn’t have no sister!”
Jessie put an edge to her voice. “He tell you that all these years?”
Billy came forward and grabbed her by the arm. She slapped his hand away. “You keep your damn paws to yourself, cousin!”
“I ain’t your cousin, I said!” He stepped forward to grab her again but when Jessie doubled up her fists, Billy decided that force was not the best way to handle her. “Listen, we can talk this out in my father’s office. You need a few dollars or a free ticket outa this town, maybe we can work something out.” He was looking at her body but she was dressed in such a heavy coat there was nothing worth seeing yet.
“I’ll bet I know what that means,” she said with a knowing wink that set all the other men in the office into snickering laughter.
“Shut up and g
et to work, all of you!” Billy roared in humiliation. “The stage to Carson leaves in an hour. And it had better be on time today!”
His employees shuffled off with smug grins.
“Damn worthless, the lot of them. If I was Pa, I’d fire every one or put a match under their behinds.”
He waited until they had left the room and then he led the way into his father’s office. It was a no-nonsense room with a big, rowel-scarred desk right in the center. A spittoon was overflowing with stubs of the same noxious cigars that Jessie remembered Bonaday smoking. There were papers scattered all over the desk and some harness that needed to be mended was piled in one corner. It did not look like the office of a profitable stage line.
Billy plunked himself into the desk chair and threw his long legs up onto the desk. He crossed them and studied Jessie closely. “All right,” he said, “pull up your own chair and tell me who the hell you really are and what your game is.”
Jessie sat down and dropped her hat to the floor. She looked right at the young man and said, “I really am your cousin Vickie and I came here to tell your pa that his sister died. I know my mother was the black sheep of the family and her name was never spoken because of that gambling man she ran away with in St. Louis. But she was his sister all the same as well as my mother. You and him are all the family I got, and I need help right now.”
“Shoot,” Billy hissed with disgust. “So you came all the way from St. Louis to Reno just to try and borrow some of my pa’s money? Hell, girl, we’re so poor I was about to ask you for a loan!”
Jessie stared at him with feigned disbelief. “Are you telling me the God’s honest truth, Billy?”
“Hell yes, I am! Do you think I’d lie and say we was about bankrupt if we wasn’t? Hell no, I wouldn‘t! Why, right this very minute my pa is in Texas or someplace else trying to talk someone out of some cash so we can meet the company payroll and keep the stages running on schedule. We are damn near busted, and if you don’t believe it, go over and ask the sonsabitches at Sierra Stage Line who are driving us under!”