by Jake Logan
If she lived.
21
Slocum rode up on the site of Abby’s abduction a few minutes later. He saw the fresh knife blazes on the trees, the dumped saddlebags with canned goods and vegetables strewn on the ground. He saw the moil of tracks and signs of the struggle.
He wondered, though, about the fresh blazes.
He rode over to the pines and then, out of the corner of his eye, saw the log cabin a few hundred yards away.
He cursed under his breath.
He debated whether to follow the three sets of horse tracks or ride down to the cabin.
Two heads were better than one, he decided. and turned Ferro to the downslope.
“Hello, the cabin,” he called when he was within fifty yards. A thin column of blue smoke streamed upward from the chimney. “Wally, I’m riding your way.”
A moment later a man stepped out of the cabin, a rifle in his hands.
It was Wally.
“That you, John?”
“It’s me and we got trouble, Wally.”
He rode down and dismounted.
“You have a horse close by?” Slocum asked.
“Sure. Why?”
“They got Abby,” Slocum said. He raised his arm and pointed up the slope toward the timber. “I guess you didn’t hear her scream.”
“Hell no, I didn’t. Who got her?”
“Two of Cordwainer’s men. Looks like they followed her and jumped her up yonder. Maybe tied her up and gagged her since I didn’t hear her scream but once.”
“Damn!” Wally exploded. “Can we catch them?”
“I don’t know if we can catch them, but we can sure as hell track them. They rode off before I got here.”
“I won’t be long,” Wally said and raced toward the cabin. He leaned his rifle against the door and then ran in back of the cabin and into a copse of trees. Slocum followed.
Wally had built a pole corral and a shelter for a water trough, hay bin, and room enough for two horses. As Slocum watched, Wally bridled his horse, slapped a blanket on its back, then a single-cinch saddle.
“Be just a minute.”
“Better strap on a pistol, Wally, and pack that rifle, plenty of ammunition. We could ride into a fight.”
“Hold my horse,” Wally said as he swung out of the saddle and handed his reins to Slocum.
In a few minutes, Wally reemerged from the cabin. He wore a gun belt and holster, carried a rifle scabbard. He picked up his rifle and attached the scabbard to his saddle. He mounted up and shoved the rifle into its sheath.
“Where now?” he asked.
“Follow me,” Slocum said.
The two men rode up to the place where Abby had been overpowered and captured.
“Do you read sign, Wally?” Slocum asked.
“Not nearly as good as you, John. But I can see that this is where they got Abby.”
He dismounted and picked up the oversized saddlebags. As Slocum studied the tracks, Wally began picking up the canned goods, celery stalks, carrots, and string beans. He slung the saddlebags onto his horse’s rump and climbed back into the saddle.
“She didn’t have a chance,” Slocum said. “One rider came busting out of the brush and probably grabbed her horse’s bridle. The other came up from behind and looks like he knocked her out of the saddle. See those smudges where a small body was lying and then turned over?”
“I just see that the ground is disturbed,” Wally said. His hat rode a little on one side as he scratched above his ear.
“Tracks tell the story,” Slocum said.
“Now what?”
Slocum pointed toward the east.
“That’s the direction they took. They won’t be riding fast. Maybe we can catch up to them.”
“They’re going down to where Union Flat levels off,” Wally said. “That’s where Cordwainer has his cabin. It’s well protected and he always has a few men with rifles guarding his place.”
“Can’t be helped,” Slocum said. “No telling what Cordwainer will do to Abby to make her tell him where your mine is.”
Wally cursed under his breath.
They began to follow the horse tracks through heavy timber and around huge boulders and the limestone outcroppings.
Slocum had no trouble deciphering the tracks. He determined that one rider was leading Abby’s horse. She rode in the middle of the trio, with one rider bringing up the rear. They were not trying to conceal their tracks, but were keeping their horses at a brisk trot.
Slocum figured that they had at least a half-hour’s lead, maybe more, and no matter how close or far it was to Cordwainer’s cabin, they had little chance of catching up to the outlaws. The land was too rugged and they had to jump over large deadfalls and skirt massive boulders.
These problems were compounded by the fact that the two men knew where they were going and Slocum did not.
“Do you know how far it is to Cordwainer’s place?” Slocum asked.
“Union Flat is pretty big and he’s on the far end of it. We’re not even down to flat land yet. It’s a bitchwilly going through here.”
“Tell me about it,” Slocum said.
The two men did not talk for several minutes.
Then they descended onto even terrain. The trees were still thick, but there were several game trails that Slocum spotted. Squirrels scampered up trees ahead of them, and Ferro shied at a timber rattler as it coiled up on a log and shook its rattles.
“Not far now, John,” Wally said. “Maybe a mile or so.”
“Still, we can’t catch them. They’ve got too much of a lead and they were running at a fast trot.”
“You can tell all that from their tracks?”
“Yes. Abby’s on her horse. Probably tied up and gagged so that she can’t cry out. These men are bastards.”
“I know they are,” Wally said. “Now I wonder how we’re going to get Abby back. Cordwainer’s liable to shoot her just to get back at me.”
“We’ll have to give it some thought when the time comes,” Slocum said.
Presently, Wally stuck out his arm and grabbed Slocum’s sleeve.
“Hold up,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper.
Slocum reined Ferro to a halt.
Wally pulled up alongside him and reined his horse to a halt.
“His cabin is just up ahead,” Wally whispered. “See all those big boulders?”
“I see the rocks, but no cabin.”
“Just beyond them is his place. John, he’s got gun ports, men prowling around outside. We don’t stand a chance against him and his men. And they’ll sure as hell be waiting for us.”
Slocum said nothing for several moments.
“Maybe we can get Abby back without any gunplay,” he said.
“How? Do you have a plan?”
“I don’t know if it will work or not, but it might. It will take some nerve.”
“Well, you have more nerve than anybody I know, John. Me, I’m plumb scared to death that something will happen to Abby.”
“I am, too,” Slocum said.
“You’re scared?”
“Not scared, Wally. Just a little on edge. But I do have a plan. It’s a small one and might not work. But it’s all I can think of.”
“What’s your plan, John?”
“Cordwainer is a greedy man, is he not?”
“Yes. He’s greedy and he’s meaner than a he-bear, without a whit of conscience.”
“Then that’s how we get Abby back.”
“I don’t follow you, John.”
“Just play along, then, Wally. Let me handle the palaver with Cordwainer.”
“His men probably have orders to shoot you on sight.”
Slocum gave out a low chuckle.
“They might shoot me, Wally, but I’m betting they won’t shoot you. Cordwainer wants your mine. He can’t get it from a dead man.”
“What? You want me to go up there—”
“Settle down, Wally. Let me handle it. But if I
open the ball, be prepared to shoot the first of his men you see.”
“I—I don’t know, John. Gunfighting is way out of my line of work.”
“You’d be surprised what a man can do when the chips are down and his back is against the wall.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, John.”
“I hope so, too,” Slocum said and tapped Ferro on the flanks.
The two men rode slowly into what Wally would call the “jaws of death.”
And that’s just what those huge boulders looked like: massive jaws. And beyond, the unknown, a veritable snake den of ruthless killers.
He and Wally were riding right into the most dangerous spot on earth.
Slocum hoped he could pull off his plan.
Otherwise, Cordwainer would have two more notches on his gun and there would be two more graves in Halcyon Valley.
22
Bud Rafferty was perched atop a large boulder, his Winchester rifle in his lap. He smoked a cigarette he had rolled moments before. He listened to every forest sound. He peered in every direction. A pair of U.S. Army field glasses hung from a strap around his neck.
Every so often Bud lifted the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the flat beyond the piles of boulders. He waved to Claude Wicks, who was circling Cordwainer’s cabin, his rifle resting on his shoulder, military style.
“Pretty quiet,” Claude said.
“Jess up yet?”
“Yep. He’s had his coffee and is goin’ over the books.”
“Well, he’s got a lot to tally, I reckon,” Bud said and waved again as Claude continued his patrol.
Ten minutes later, Bud spotted movement beyond a phalanx of boulders. He stood up and put the binoculars to his face and adjusted the lenses. Then he called down to Claude in a loud voice.
“Friend or foe?” Claude asked.
“Dunno yet,” Bud replied.
Three minutes later, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s Lou and Pat,” he told Claude. “Better call out Jess. They got a gal with ’em. Looks like it could be the Newman woman.”
Claude rapped on the cabin door.
“Boss, Bud says he thinks Lou and Pat are ridin’ up with that Abby Newman.”
Cordwainer looked up at Bud.
“You sure, Bud?” he asked.
“Certain sure, Jess. They got her sandwiched atwixt ’em. She’s on that dun horse.”
“Well, keep an eye on them. Make sure there’s nobody following them.”
Five minutes later, Lou and Pat rode up with Abby. Both wore wide grins on their faces.
“We got her, boss,” Pat said.
“And we know where her brother’s cabin is,” Lou said.
“Light down,” Cordwainer said, “and bring the gal inside. I want to know all that you know and what she knows.”
He went back into the cabin as the two men dismounted and dragged Abby from her saddle. They did not untie her, but shoved her into the cabin as if she were a criminal in custody.
“We know right where Wally Newman lives,” Lou said. “We blazed some trees so’s we can find it again.”
“Give Miss Abby a chair and untie her,” Cordwainer ordered. “That ain’t no way to treat a lady.”
Pat untied the bonds around Abby’s wrists. He sat her in a chair. She glared at Cordwainer as she rubbed her wrists. The rope had left impressions in her flesh.
“Ain’t you goin’ to thank me, Miss Abby?” Cordwainer said.
“Thank you for what? Your men knocked me out of my saddle and tied me up.”
“Well, were you heading for Wally’s?”
“That’s none of your business,” she said.
“Oh, I think it is. I want to know where his mine is and where he filed his claim.”
“Well, you’ll never find out either one,” she said.
“We have ways of getting information from folks,” Cordwainer said. “Especially from young, smart-mouthed women.”
Abby said nothing.
There was a silence in the room for several seconds.
Finally, Lou Jessup spoke up. “Do we get our hunnert dollars, Jess?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Pat said. “We did what you wanted.”
Cordwainer turned his attention to the two men who stood behind Abby.
“You’ll get your money in good time. Now go on outside and have a smoke or a chew. I want to talk to Miss Abby by herself.”
“Okay, boss,” Lou said.
The two men left the room and closed the door.
“All I want, Miss Abby, is a little information. Now we know where your brother lives. You can keep him alive and unhurt if you tell me what I want to know. Where is his gold mine and where did he file his claim?”
“I’ll never tell,” she said. “You can kill me or torture me, but I won’t betray my brother.”
“What about this Slocum? Is he your sweetie?”
“You have a way of fouling the name of everyone I care about,” she said. “You make Wally and Johnnie sound like filth in your mouth.”
Cordwainer smiled, but it was not a mirthful smile. It was a smug, noncaring smile.
He got up and walked over to her. He looked down and she looked up.
“If we have to hunt your brother down and put a hot poker to his eyes, you’ll hear him scream for mercy.”
“Johnnie Slocum will kill you first,” she said.
“I’ve got men hot on his trail right now, little lady. He’ll be wolf meat by tomorrow.”
“You don’t know Slocum,” she said.
“No, but you do. I wonder if we can’t use you as bait to draw that bastard out in the open.”
She spat at Cordwainer.
Her spit struck him in the crotch. He looked down at the liquid substance.
“My patience is running a mite thin, Miss Abby.”
“As if I cared a hoot or a holler,” she said.
“Maybe I won’t torture you,” he said as he turned away and sat down at his table. “Maybe I’ll just take you to my bed tonight and put the boots to you.”
Abby knew what the expression meant. He was threatening to rape her.
But she would not give Cordwainer the satisfaction of responding to his threat. She just sat there and quietly glared at him.
Before either of them spoke again, they heard a commotion outside.
There was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Cordwainer demanded. He was plainly irritated.
“It’s me, Pat. Bud says somebody’s comin’. Might be Slocum and Newman.”
“I’ll be right out,” Cordwainer said.
Then he walked over to Abby and grabbed her by both wrists and jerked her to her feet.
“Come on,” he said. “If that’s Slocum and he’s come for you, you’ll be the first to die, you little bitch.”
She struggled to free herself from Cordwainer’s grip, but he was too strong. He dragged her from the cabin and stood with her just outside the door. Lou and Pat stood by Bud’s sentinel post atop the pile of boulders. All three men were staring off in the distance in the same direction the two men and Abby had come from several moments before.
“What is it, Bud?”
“They’s two riders a-comin’, near as I can figger,’ he said. “They’re comin’ mighty slow.”
“Do you recognize them? Who in hell are they?” Cordwainer demanded.
“Can’t see too well. One of ’em’s on a black horse. Dressed in black, too.”
“Hell, that’s Slocum,” Lou said.
“Maybe,” Bud said.
“Hell yes, it’s Slocum. And Newman’s probably with him.”
“Well, don’t any of you shoot lessen I order you to,” Cordwainer said. “This might be our chance to kill two birds with one stone. I’ve got Newman’s sister, and if they want her bad enough, they’ll have to talk mighty fast.”
Lou and Pat smiled and exchanged glances. They seemed proud of their boss.
“You bas
tard,” Abby whispered under her breath.
“They’re still a-comin’, boss,” Bud said. “Slow as molasses in January.”
“Good,” Cordwainer said and drew his pistol. He cocked the .44 and put the barrel against Abby’s temple. “Let ’em come.”
Abby’s knees turned to jelly and she felt faint. She strained to see if it really was her brother and Johnnie, but she could see only boulders and trees. She summoned up her courage and strength, and her knees returned to normal. She waited, holding her breath until it turned to fire in her lungs.
The barrel of the pistol was cold against her flesh.
She was certain, then, that Cordwainer would hold to his promise and shoot her dead if Wally and Johnnie made a move to free her from this mad man.
She began to pray silently, but the words were all jumbled and meaningless in her mind.
The waiting was agony.
23
Even though both Slocum and Newman were anxious to find Abby, they rode at a slow pace through the timber. The tracks of the three horses were easy for Slocum to follow, and Wally knew where Cordwainer’s cabin was, so they made good time.
Along the way, Slocum outlined his plan to Wally.
“You have to do it, Wally,” Slocum said.
“Anything to get Abby away from that bastard, Cordwainer,” he said. “But I don’t like it none.”
“No, I didn’t expect you would,” Slocum said.
“In fact, the more I think about what you want me to do, the less I like it.”
“Sometimes,” Slocum said, “you have to trust someone. Like when your daddy tells you to jump off the barn and he’ll catch you.”
“Or telling me to jump in the water when I can’t swim. My pa did that. ‘You won’t drown,’ he said, and I believed him. But, John, I swallowed a hell of a lot of water learning to swim.”
Slocum chuckled.
“Well, you might have to swallow something worse than water when we brace Cordwainer.”
“Is that a threat, John, or a warning?”
Slocum laughed.
“Maybe both,” he said.
The men rode on and it seemed an eternity to Slocum. The tracks of the horses they were following showed him that the men he tracked were not running hard, but kept their horses at a slow, steady pace. At times, they had stopped, to reconnoiter, Slocum imagined, because the horses changed directions slightly.