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Devil's Canyon

Page 8

by Ralph Compton


  “I aim to,” Dog Face said, “an’ since you brung it up, don’t you and Hueso go gettin’ ideas. I been double-crossed before, but the bastards ain’t around to brag on it.”

  The unsavory duo glared at Dog Face, hatred in their eyes, and Slade laughed. There was no honor among thieves, and they all knew it, but Dog Face was no fool. Playing on the obvious hostility between his own companions and Slade’s outfit, either faction would find it difficult to double-cross or shoot him in the back. The fact that Slade and his men had not been relieved of their weapons made the situation perfectly clear to Sangre and Hueso.

  “Now that we understand one another,” said Slade, his eyes on Dog Face, “how is it that you got some of these Utes with you, but not the others?”

  “There’s different factions of ’em within these mountains,” Dog Face replied. “I took me a squaw within this bunch, and I led the men over Cajon pass, into California. As you can see, the Californios provided us with fine horses, weapons, and ammunition. The Utes ain’t forgot, an’ that’s somethin’ that can’t always be said of a white man.”

  As he spoke, his eyes were on Sangre and Hueso. From their expressions, it appeared his suspicions of the pair were well-founded.

  “If you don’t get along with all the Utes,” said Hindes, “what’s to stop all the others from jumpin’ in ahead of us, killin’ the teamsters, and takin’ the wagons?”

  “They ain’t got the firepower,” Dog Face said. “Winchesters cut ’em down before they git within range with bows and arrows. That bunch that attacked the wagons a while ago, half of ’em died, without once drawin’ blood.”

  The Utes had gone about their business, paying no attention to Slade and his men. It was encouragement enough for the new arrivals, and they set about unsaddling.

  “We got some grub,” Slade said, “but not enough to make much difference, with all these hombres.”

  “We’re obliged,” said Dog Face, “but it won’t matter. It’s summer, and there’s plenty of game in these mountains. Come winter, we’ll drift west, toward the Great Basin.”

  There was a stream along the floor of the canyon, with the western rim overhanging enough to provide shelter. Slade and his companions released their horses and dragged their saddles beneath the rim. There being little else to do, the outlaws stretched out, heads on their saddles, and lighted quirlys.

  “A fine damn mess,” said Hindes sourly. “Now what’ll we do?”

  “We’ll keep our mouths shut,” Slade replied. “Especially you. Spoutin’ off could get us all shot dead.”

  “There’s worse things than throwin’ in with this bunch,” said Withers. “At least, we ain’t likely to be bushwhacked by Indians.”

  “Hell, we’re surrounded by ’em,” Peeler said. “Let somethin’ happen to this ugly varmint, Perro Cara, and we’re dead as last summer’s cornstalks.”

  “That’s why we’re gonna do whatever it takes to keep him alive,” said Slade. “At least for a while. We’re going to make ourselves useful to him.”

  Hindes laughed. “The mark of an honest man. Never back-shoot or double-cross a gent, as long as he’s useful.”

  Somehow it rubbed Slade the wrong way, and with his hand near the butt of his Colt, he spoke.

  “Hindes, you open your mouth one more time, and I’ll kill you.”

  * * *

  Despite the fact the first Indian attack had come from along the back trail, Faro didn’t give up scouting ahead. This time, rather than scouting only as far as he believed the wagons could travel in a day, he rode much farther. While there was some personal risk, he wanted to see just how far ahead the outlaws were. He reined up quickly, for suddenly there were tracks of a dozen unshod horses. The riders had advanced until they had come together with other riders of unshod horses, and the lot of them had traveled west. Faro followed cautiously, and only when the riders were strung out enough could he again see tracks of shod horses. Five shod horses! He rode a little farther, just to be sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him, but the tracks were there. Wheeling his horse, he rode back to meet the wagons. Seeing him coming, they reined up to rest the teams and climbed down from their wagon boxes.

  “There’s trouble ahead,” said Faro. “These hombres I’ve been trailin’ rode off with Indians. Two dozen or more, if I’m any judge. One of the bunch is ridin’ a shod horse.”

  “Could be a white renegade,” Dallas Weaver said.

  “That’s what I suspect,” said Faro.

  “There was no sign of any conflict, then, when these four men met the Indians,” Levi Collins said.

  “None that I could see,” said Faro, “and that’s puzzling. Two bunches of Utes caught these four hombres between a rock and a hard place, but there was no sign of a fight. It seems they all rode away together.”

  “Pretty mean odds, four men against that many Indians,” Tarno said. “I reckon they done the smart thing.”

  “I ain’t too sure of that,” said Shanghai. “Hell, I’d as soon go down shootin’ as to be rode off to an Indian camp and burnt at the stake.”

  “There’s one factor we’re not considering,” Faro said. “The rider of that fifth shod horse may be a renegade white. If he is, it could account for those four being taken alive.”

  “Yes,” said Collins, “and he may have taken them alive, seeking to learn why they’ve been dogging us. If all this was Indian related, I can’t believe they wouldn’t just come after us with a large enough force to kill us all and take the wagons.”

  “That’s more the Indian way,” Faro agreed, “so you may be right. There may be a white renegade calling the shots, but what can the four men he captured tell him about us and our destination?”

  “From what I know,” said Odessa McCutcheon, “one of them four varmints likely took somethin’ from Mr. Collins that led ’em to suspect where you folks is goin’, and your reasons. Don’t you reckon them four would swap that information for their lives, if they had any choice?”

  “By God, she’s right,” Dallas said. “There’s nothin’ worse than a bunch of Indians led by white outlaws.”

  “But we’ve already been attacked by Indians,” said Mamie McCutcheon, “and they all came after us along the back trail.”

  “All Indians won’t necessarily be part of this renegade bunch,” Faro said. “That means we’re subject to being attacked by God knows how many different bands.”

  Hal Durham listened in dismay, his pitiful plans to double-cross Slade’s bunch crumbling before his eyes. Even now, Slade and his companions might be dead, and while Durham didn’t care a damn for them, it complicated things for him. Strong on his mind was the hunk of gold ore he had given Slade. Men had killed for less than the promise within that piece of rock, and the killers would be somewhere ahead. Durham swallowed hard.

  Chapter 5

  The rest of the day passed uneventfully. After supper, before the first watch began, Faro had something to say.

  “Collins, I have a plan that requires a case of that dynamite.”

  “There’s plenty,” Collins said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I want it capped and fused,” Faro said. “With seven- to ten-second fuses. You’ll keep a few sticks in your saddlebag, and I want some on every wagon box.”

  “There’s oilskin in the first wagon,” Collins said.

  “Bueno,” said Faro. “See that the dynamite is wrapped to stay dry, and each of you had better use a bit of that oilskin to wrap a few matches. We already know we’re facing a large number of men, and the time may come when we find ourselves surrounded. A few well-placed sticks of dynamite could even the odds.”

  “An ingenious plan,” Collins said, “and I didn’t even consider that, while purchasing the dynamite.”

  “The important thing is, we have it,” said Faro. “Since we’re on the second watch, I reckon you and me had best fuse and cap that dynamite after supper. It’ll cut into sleepin’ time a mite, but I’ll feel better when it’s ready.�
��

  “I’ll help, if you like,” Durham said.

  “Let the little varmint,” said Odessa. “Maybe he’ll blow himself up.”

  “I reckon Collins and me can handle it,” Faro said. “We’ll need to save the dynamite for Utes and outlaws.”

  The others laughed, but Durham did not, and Faro didn’t like the look in the gambler’s eyes. After supper, Collins broke open a wooden case of dynamite, and with Faro helping, they capped and fused the explosive. Collins dug into the first wagon and came out with the oilskin. With his knife, he cut a section of it into two-foot squares, and in these, sticks of capped and fused dynamite were wrapped. The teamsters watched approvingly, for it was a tactic that might well save their lives. Durham had already taken to his blankets in preparation for the second watch, while Odessa McCutcheon hunkered with the rest of the teamsters, drinking coffee. While Mamie stayed with the first watch, Odessa had remained with the second, if for no other reason than because her continual presence irritated Hal Durham. While the two appeared to hate each other’s guts, Faro Duval was not convinced. Odessa had begun spending most of the watch with Levi Collins, and Collins had done nothing to discourage her. In fact, he seemed to relish her attention, and began returning it, with interest. One evening after supper, before the first watch began, Faro took his suspicions to Mamie McCutcheon.

  “Mamie,” Faro said, “I need a woman’s advice, and I must ask you not to repeat anything I’m about to say.”

  “I am flattered, Mr. Duval,” said Mamie, “and I just love secrets. I presume it somehow involves Odessa and her…ah…activities on the second watch.”

  “It does,” Faro said. “Not so much what she’s doing, as her reasons for doing it. Am I wrong to doubt that Odessa and Durham don’t actually hate each other?”

  Mamie laughed. “You are a strange man, Faro Duval. To answer your question, I’d have to say no. I fear Odessa is as much attracted to Durham as ever, and is perhaps using Mr. Collins in an attempt to revive Durham’s interest in her.”

  “Damn,” said Faro. “Do you think she can?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know,” Mamie replied. “From what I’ve seen of Durham, I doubt it. To support my reasoning, I’d have to tell you some unflattering things about Odessa and myself.”

  “I won’t ask you to do that,” said Faro. “You’re entitled to your private lives.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Mamie said, “but when one’s life touches that of a two-legged skunk like Durham, something always gets lost in the stink. There are some women who, although they don’t realize it, find a flawed, low-down man most appealing. If they lose one, they’ll find another. Odessa and me, if there was any hope for us, should have been married before the war. When it ended, the few men who came home were crippled, sick, and bitter. The last thing any of them seemed to want was a twenty-five-year-old woman whose best years were behind her. Is it any wonder that a slick-talking, fancy-dressed varmint like Durham could turn a woman’s head?”

  “One of you, I can understand,” Faro said, “but how…?”

  Mamie laughed. “Oh, he spent a week with Odessa, before he came after me.”

  “You gave in to him, knowing he’d taken advantage of your sister?”

  “He didn’t explain it that way,” said Mamie. “He sort of…accused her of taking unfair advantage of him.”

  It was Faro’s turn to laugh, and Mamie blushed.

  “Sorry,” Faro said. “What did Odessa do?”

  “She jumped on me,” said Mamie. “She called me a whore, and some other words that I didn’t know she knew.”

  “If she blamed you,” Faro said, “then why did she come after Durham with fire in her eye and a Winchester in her hand?”

  “Not to kill him,” said Mamie, “despite what she says. She was furious, not because he took the thousand dollars from her, but because he ran out on us. She was counting on going to California with him.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Faro said. “Don’t you know, when a man’s proved he’s a sidewinder, he ain’t likely to change? If Odessa and Durham had got back together, where would you fit in?”

  “I was going to save her from him, if I could,” said Mamie. “I thought if I was there, always around, he’d leave her for me. How many times must that happen to her, before she gives up on him?”

  “You don’t believe that,” Faro said. “You already told me there’s women who lose one no-account varmint, only to go lookin’ for another. So you and Odessa came west, plannin’ to share this slick-tongued gambler.”

  “Damn you,” Mamie cried, “how dare you…”

  “Quiet,” said Faro. “This is a touchy enough situation, without involving all the others in it. So you came west with Odessa, not to even the score with Durham, but to continue what he had started, back in Amarillo.”

  “Yes,” Mamie said, refusing to look at him, “but you must understand the terrible predicament in which we found ourselves. We were considered fallen women, disgraced in a town where we had grown up. In the churches, sermons were preached, condemning us as sinners bound for hell-fire. Don’t you see? Anything—even a checkered life with a slick-talking gambler—would have been better than what we faced at home.”

  “I reckon I can understand that,” said Faro, “but where does that leave you now? Do you still believe Durham will be taking the pair of you to California?”

  “Oh, God,” Mamie said, “don’t ask me that. I don’t know. Odessa and me talked some about taking our teams and wagon and returning with you to Santa Fe, but I don’t know that she wasn’t just creating false hopes. When we’ve gone as far as you intend going, I’m not sure Odessa won’t try to push Durham into taking us on to California.”

  “Do you think that was Durham’s only reason for throwing in with us, to escape you and Odessa?”

  “I…I don’t know what you mean,” said Mamie.

  “Then I’ll spell it out for you,” Faro said. “I had my doubts about Odessa when she kept insisting we were being followed by outlaws. You’ve heard her admit that she believes those men are concerned with where we’re going, and why. Is it too far-fetched to believe that this Hal Durham has the same ambition?”

  “I suppose not,” she replied in a small voice.

  “Then maybe Odessa’s interest in Levi Collins accounts for more than just stirring up jealousy in Durham,” said Faro. “Suppose Collins tells Odessa where we’re going, and why? It appears to me that would get her back in solid with Durham. Would she go that far?”

  “Damn it,” Mamie cried, “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”

  She stomped angrily away, and Faro doubted he’d have to say anything to Odessa, for she dropped her tin cup and went after Mamie. The others—especially Collins—looked at him long and hard, but Faro said nothing. If Odessa or Collins took issue with his doubts and suspicions, let them approach him. Almost immediately after the second watch began, Collins did.

  “Mr. Duval,” said Collins, “I understand you do not look favorably on my interest in Odessa McCutcheon.”

  “Wrong, Collins,” Faro said. “I don’t look favorably on her interest in you, because I believe her interest goes considerably beyond what you expect. I think she’s still neck-deep in her affair with Hal Durham, and that she aims to swap him something he wants, in the hope of rekindling his interest in her. Have you told her where we’re bound, and why?”

  “My business arrangement with you does not entitle you to pry into my personal life,” said Collins stiffly.

  “It does, when your personal life threatens the lives of us all, and the success of this expedition,” Faro said coldly. “Now answer my question. Have you told Odessa McCutcheon where we’re bound, and why?”

  “No, damn it,” said Collins irritably, “but I can’t say that I won’t.”

  “Collins,” Faro said grimly, “I can’t make you shut your mouth, but I can sure as hell make you wish you had. If you breathe a word of our purpose and destin
ation to Odessa or Durham, our deal with you is off. We’ll unload four of these wagons, leaving every damn bit of goods and grub on the ground, and return to Santa Fe.”

  “By God,” said Collins, his face livid, “you wouldn’t…”

  “I would, and I will,” Faro replied, his voice dangerously calm. “I want your promise of silence. Do I have it?”

  “You have it,” said Collins, choking out the words.

  Faro said no more, and Odessa McCutcheon wasted no time in joining Collins. Durham realized something was afoot, and when the gambler laughed, Faro turned on him.

  “Come now, Duval,” Durham said, “there’s enough of her to go around. Let the man take his pleasure. Tomorrow, he may be shot full of Ute arrows, and missing his scalp.”

  “Durham,” said Faro, “one day I’ll catch you dealing from the bottom of the deck, and when I do, it’ll be your last deal.”

  Durham laughed again, but with a little less confidence. Faro turned away.

  * * *

  “I saw Duval talking to Mamie, and then to you,” Odessa McCutcheon said, “and I’ve a feeling it involves me.”

  “No,” said Levi Collins, a little too quickly. “It has to do with Durham. Duval doesn’t trust the man.”

  “He shouldn’t,” Odessa said. “I’ve told him that from the start.”

  “How do you feel about Durham, Odessa?”

  For a long moment she said nothing, and even in the starlight, he could see the anger in her eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice dripped with fury.

  “So that’s how it is. Duval believes I’m in cahoots with that snake-in-the-grass, slick-dealing gambler, and he’s talkin’ against me.”

  “Nobody’s accused you of anything,” said Collins. “We all know you and Mamie are here because of Durham, and that you once had plans of traveling to California with him. I think all of us are entitled to know what you and Mamie intend to do once these wagons have gone as far as we intend to take them.”

  “We intend to return to Santa Fe with Duval and his men,” Odessa said. “Remember you still have our wagon loaded with your goods. Would you prefer to unload it, so that we can return to Santa Fe immediately?”

 

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