Deadly Trail

Home > Western > Deadly Trail > Page 9
Deadly Trail Page 9

by William W. Johnstone


  The train started up the long incline that would take it to the pass at the top of Thunder Pass, and as it did so, it slowed noticeably. Matt had taken this same train trip before, and he knew that it would get much slower before finally cresting the peak.

  Getting up from his seat and stretching, Matt walked to the rear of the car, where he stood for a moment in the warmth of the little coal stove. After that, he stepped over to the wooden water scuttle, pulled a flat paper cup from a dispenser, opened it up, and drew himself a cup of water, wishing that it was whiskey, or at least a beer.

  Two miles ahead of the train, Strayhorn and the others waited alongside the track. Strayhorn blew on his hands, then stamped his feet in the snow.

  “Damn, it’s cold,” Hennessey said, wrapping his arms around himself.

  “I’ll bet ole’ Boone ain’t cold right now,” Teech said with a giggle. “Yes, sir, I’ll bet ole’ Satan has the fires turned up just real hot for him.”

  “That ain’t none funny a’tall,” Hennessey said. “Me’n Taylor was almost hung too, you know. Could be us down there burnin’, ’stead of up here freezin’.”

  “Yeah, well, right now I don’t know which is the worst,” Decker said as he stamped his feet on the ground. “Freezin’ up here, or burnin’ down in hell.”

  “What are you doing here, Decker? I thought I told you to stay with the horses,” Strayhorn said, his voice showing his irritation.

  “Them horses ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Decker answered. “I’ve got ’em tied up real good.”

  “They damn sure better not go anywhere.”

  At that moment, inexplicably, one of the other men laughed. “Lookit that,” he said.

  “What is it? Look at what?” Strayhorn asked.

  “I just took me a piss on the railroad track and now it’s smokin’. I bet there ain’t none of you ever pissed smoke before.”

  “I swear, Loomis, you may be about the dumbest son of a bitch I’ve ever met,” Malone said. “Your pee ain’t smokin’. It’s steamin’. See, when you take a pee on a day as cold as this, why, your pee starts to boilin’ soon as it comes out.”

  “So, you mean if I peed on my hand when it’s this cold, it would burn?” Loomis asked.

  “Yeah,” Malone said.

  Strayhorn shook his head in disgust. “You’re both dumb as dirt,” he said.

  They heard the distant sound of a train whistle.

  “Here comes the train, so hush up, the lot of you,” Strayhorn said, holding up his hand. “Mills, you’re sure you know what to do?”

  “Yeah, I know what to do,” Mills said. “When the train reaches the top of the grade, it’ll be comin’ slow enough for me to climb up into the engine cab. I’ll make ’em stop so you folks can get into the express car.” He smiled. “Then we all ride away rich.”

  “You’re sure they’re carryin’ twenty-five thousand dollars?” Hennessey asked.

  “That’s what it said in the newspaper story I read,” Strayhorn replied.

  “I sure hope so. We been out here in the cold this whole night,” Hennessey said. “I just want to be sure it’s worth it, that’s all.”

  “You can ride away now and get warm if you want to,” Strayhorn offered.

  “No, no, I was just wonderin’, that’s all.”

  “Hey, Strayhorn, how ’bout if Taylor’n me goes through the cars and takes whatever money the passengers is carryin’ on ’em?” Hennessey suggested.

  “We’re here to get twenty-five thousand dollars and you’re worrin’ about a few measly dollars the passengers might have?”

  “We got over a hundred and fifty dollars for that stage coach we robbed,” Hennessey said. “There’s a lot more people on a train than there is on a coach.”

  “Yeah, you may be right,” Strayhorn said. “But I want you and Taylor out here with me. Kale, you go with Loomis. Go though ever’ car. Don’t bother none with watches or jewelry and sech. Just take whatever money they got.”

  “All right,” Kale agreed with a nod. He looked at Loomis. “You start at the back of the train, I’ll start up front.”

  “Right,” Loomis replied.

  By now the train was close enough that they could hear the puffing of the steam engine as it worked its laborious way up the long incline.

  “Mills, you ready?” Strayhorn called.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Get down there then,” Strayhorn said, pointing to a spot by the track. “It’ll be slow enough when it reaches that point that you can climb on real easy. By the time it gets here, you’ll have the engine stopped. You know how to do it, right?”

  “Yeah, I just point my gun at the sons of bitches who are drivin’ the train and tell ’em to stop,” Mills said with a chuckle.

  “What if one of the passengers comes out to see why they’ve stopped and starts up puttin’ up a fight?” Hennessey asked.

  “It’s Kale and Loomis’s job to see that they don’t,” Strayhorn said. “Kale, Loomis, you hear that? If you see any passenger who looks like he’s going to get off the train, shoot him.”

  Kale and Loomis nodded.

  Seeing that Mills hadn’t left yet, Strayhorn waved his hand. “Go on, get goin’,” he said.

  Mills nodded, then hurried down to the spot by the track that Strayhorn had pointed out to him. The train approached, puffing loudly as the throttle was full open, working hard to make the long climb. At this point, the train was moving no faster than a slow walk.

  Mills trotted alongside it, overtaking it until he drew even with the engine. Then, reaching up to grab the boarding ladder, he stepped easily onto the bottom rung.

  Chapter Ten

  Back in the second passenger car of the train, Matt returned to his seat. His walk to the back of the car had been less to get warm and to get water than it had been to stretch and get the kinks and soreness out. Looking around at the others, and noticing their pained attempts to get comfortable, he couldn’t help but wonder about them. Then, with a quick intake of surprise, he noticed that one of the other people in the train was staring back at him. She was a young, and very pretty, woman.

  “I’ve been watching you,” the woman said. The voice was soft and melodic.

  “Beg your pardon?” Matt replied.

  “I’ve been watching you,” the woman repeated. “You were obviously having a dream, but the dream wasn’t a pleasant one.”

  “How do you know it wasn’t a pleasant dream?”

  “Because your face is remarkably reflective,” the woman said. In addition to being pretty, she had a subtle hint of perfume about her. Perfume that carried with it a note of lavender.

  “I suppose I was dreaming,” Matt replied. He made no effort to tell her what he had been dreaming.

  “Well, dreams, like thoughts, are quite private, so I shall make no inquiries as to what it was,” the woman said. Smiling, she extended her hand. “My name is Layne. Layne McKenzie.”

  “I’m Matt Jensen. I’m pleased to meet you, uh, Miss or Mrs. McKenzie?”

  Layne laughed. “Definitely Miss,” she said. “Will you be getting off in Denver, Mr. Jensen?”

  “Yes. And you?”

  She nodded. “I will as well. I’ve come to spend some time with my uncle,” Layne replied. “It’s my first time out West. Have you been to Denver before?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is it? The city, I mean.”

  “Hasn’t your uncle told you about it?”

  “He says Denver is wonderful, but then he is so sold on the West in general, and Colorado and Denver in particular, that I don’t know how much credence to give his reports.”

  “I would listen to your uncle. Denver is very nice,” Matt said. “I’ve no doubt that your stay will be most pleasant.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Layne replied. “I don’t mind telling you that I am a little apprehensive about it.”

  “Don’t be. I’m sure you will have a fine time,” Matt promised.

  “List
en to me, prattling on so to a perfect stranger,” Layne said. “Why, my mother would be just mortified if she could see me now.”

  “No reason she should be,” Matt replied, smiling warmly. “We have introduced ourselves. That means we are no longer strangers.”

  Layne laughed. “Yes, that’s right, isn’t it? I mean, since we know each other’s names, we aren’t strangers at all.”

  “Not at all,” Matt agreed.

  “Mr. Jensen, I know this is very forward of me, and I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression, but I certainly hope we find the opportunity to meet again while we are both visiting Denver. Do you think we will?”

  “I don’t know,” Matt replied. “Denver is a very big town.”

  “But if the opportunity arose for us to meet again, would you welcome it?”

  “Well, now, who wouldn’t welcome the opportunity to meet such a pretty young woman?”

  Layne smiled and blushed appropriately. Then, she pulled a card from her handbag and handed it to Matt. “This is my carte de visite,” she said. “I have written my uncle’s address on the back. I do hope you will call on me while you are in town.”

  “Thank you,” Matt said, taking the card. He put the card in his shirt pocket without looking at it.

  Up in the engine the fireman, his face covered with soot, threw in another shovel of coal, then stood up and looked over at the engineer. The engineer, like the fireman, was illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the storm lantern they used for light.

  “George, what’s the pressure now?” the fireman shouted.

  “Two hundred PSI. She’s at the maximum, Hank. You can take a break now.”

  “I don’t know. We’re going to have to keep the pressure up,” Hank said. “Leastwise, until we reach the top of the grade. Then we can back off a bit.”

  “No!” a third voice suddenly called out. “I’ll thank you boys to back off right now!”

  “What the hell?” the engineer shouted, startled by the man’s sudden and unexpected appearance. “Who the hell are you and where did you did you come from?”

  “The name’s Mills and you just guessed it, I came from hell,” Mills said, laughing at his own joke. The pupils of his eyes were reflecting the orange light from the boiler furnace and with a little imagination, they could have been reflecting the flames of hell. “Now, shut this thing down like I told you,” Mills said. He made a motion with his gun.

  “Better do what he says, George,” the fireman said. “Looks like he means business.”

  Mills smiled. “Well, now, mayhaps you ain’t as dumb as you look,” he taunted.

  The engineer closed the throttle and applied the brakes, bringing the train to a squeaking, rattling halt. Steam escaped from the relief valve and the engine sat motionless on the track, emitting rhythmic puffs of steam.

  “All right, she’s stopped,” George said. “What now?”

  “Get down from the train, both of you,” Mills said, waving his pistol to emphasize his order.

  “Mama, why are we stopping?” the boy across the aisle from Matt asked. “We aren’t there yet.”

  “I don’t know why we have stopped, dear,” the boy’s mother replied. “Maybe they have to let the engine rest a bit. You know they always stop the stagecoach at the top of a long hill to let the team rest.”

  The boy laughed. “Mama, you don’t know nothin’ about steam engines. They ain’t like horses. They don’t get tired.”

  “It’s know anything, Timmy. And don’t say ain’t.”

  Suddenly, a man appeared at the front of the car. He was holding a gun and he pointed it down the car toward the passengers.

  “All right, folks, this here is a holdup!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “And if any of you men is carryin’ a gun, I’d advise you to take it out and put it on the floor right now.”

  Besides Matt, there were four other men in the car, and all four complied with the robber’s request, laying their pistols on the floor. Matt stood up, the gun on his belt in plain sight.

  “Mister, did you hear what I said?” the robber asked, waving his pistol toward Matt.

  “Yeah, I heard what you said,” Matt said. “Now I’m tellin’ you to drop your gun.”

  “The hell you say. I’m just goin’ to kill you and be done with—” That was as far as the robber got because even as he was thumbing back the hammer, Matt drew and fired. The noise of the gunshot and the brilliant flash of the muzzle pattern was like lightning and thunder in the confines of the car. Layne and the young mother screamed and the men called out in shock and fear, but even before the smoke from the discharge rolled away, Matt was bailing out of the back end of the car. Hitting the ground, he dropped to his stomach, then rolled down the berm that elevated the track. At the bottom of the berm he got up and, moving in a crouch, started toward the front of the train, where he saw several men gathered around the express car. The fireman and the engineer were both outside, standing alongside the engine with their hands in the air.

  One of the train robbers stepped up to the express car and banged on the side of it with the butt of his pistol. “Open the door!” the train robber shouted.

  “I ain’t a’goin’ to do it!” a muffled voice replied from inside the express car.

  “I ain’t goin’ to fool around with you, mister,” the leader of the robbers said. “Open the door right now, or I’m going to start killin’ people.”

  The door still did not open, so Strayhorn turned to Malone. “Malone, kill the engineer,” he said.

  Malone shot the engineer in the head and he went down.

  “We just killed the engineer,” Strayhorn shouted to the closed door of the express car. “If you don’t open that door in five seconds, I’ll kill the fireman too.”

  “Hold it!” Matt shouted, bringing his pistol up and pointing it at Malone.

  Seeing the unexpected appearance of a passenger, Malone turned his gun away from the fireman and shot at Matt. He missed.

  Matt fired back and the outlaw went down. Realizing that they were under fire, the other robbers scattered, looking for cover.

  Suddenly, a bullet fried the air by his ear and, turning, Matt saw what had to be one of the robbers coming toward him from the rear of the train. Matt returned fire, but just as he pulled the trigger, the robber leaped behind a rock, causing Matt to miss. Matt dropped to his stomach and fired again, watching his bullet take a chip out of the rock right where he had last seen the robber.

  Behind Matt, the fireman had taken advantage of the situation to climb back up into the engine cab. As soon as he got there, he moved the throttle into the full position and the train lurched forward.

  “Strayhorn! The train is getting away!” one of the robbers shouted.

  “Mills, stop it!” Strayhorn yelled.

  Mills jumped up onto the mounting ladder and climbed up to the cab. Just as he got there, though, the fireman smashed Mills in the head with the shovel. At the same time the fireman hit Mills, Mills pulled the trigger. Mills fell from the mounting ladder, his shout of horror cut off in mid-yell as he was ground up by the wheels of the tender car when the train passed over him.

  “Strayhorn, the train is still going!” Hennessey yelled.

  “Hennessey? Hennessey, is that you?” Matt called, recognizing the voice of the man he had brought in for hanging a few weeks earlier.

  “Son of a bitch!” Hennessey shouted. “Strayhorn, it’s Jensen! Jensen is on this train!”

  “Get to the horses, let’s get out of here!” Strayhorn ordered.

  Upon hearing Strayhorn order the others to get mounted, the robber who had been engaging Matt stood up.

  “No you don’t, Strayhorn! You fellas ain’t leavin’ me behind!” he shouted.

  “We ain’t comin’ back for you, Kale! You gotta run for it like the rest of us!” Strayhorn shouted.

  “Drop your gun, Kale,” Matt ordered, using the name he had heard Strayhorn use. Matt was standing now, and he pointed his
pistol at the would-be train robber.

  “The hell you say!” Kale called back, and with a challenging scream, he started toward Matt, firing his pistol as he did so. Matt took careful aim and dropped Kale with one shot.

  Behind him, Matt heard the muffled sound of hoofbeats in the snow, and he knew that the remaining outlaws were getting away. He looked in the direction of the sound, hoping to be able to get a shot, but the riders had already disappeared into the darkness of the night, leaving behind four bodies, two killed by Matt, one killed when he fell under the train, and the engineer, who was killed by the outlaws. In addition, there was one more dead outlaw on the train, killed in Matt’s very first confrontation with them. The attempted train robbery was a bloody failure, due primarily to the fact that Matt had been a passenger on the train.

  The train!

  Matt suddenly realized that the train was under way and already picking up a good deal of momentum.

  “Whoa, hold it!” Matt shouted, his call sounding small and tinny against the noise of the passing train. Facing the possibility of being left out here alone, Matt broke into a run to catch up to it. He barely grabbed the boarding ladder at the very end of the train, then pulled himself up onto the rear vestibule. When he opened the door to go into the last car, he was met with three armed passengers, all of whom were pointing their pistols at him.

  “It’s one of the robbers!” one of the armed men shouted.

  “No!” a woman called out. “I saw this man through the window! He was shooting at the robbers!”

  “The lady’s right,” Matt said. “I’m a passenger, just like you.”

  The three men lowered their pistols. “Sorry,” they said.

  “No, don’t apologize,” Matt said. “I admire you for being willing to fight them off.”

  “We didn’t fight them off. I reckon you’re the one who did that,” one of the men said.

  “Whoever did it, we’re safe now,” another said. “At the rate we’re going, we aren’t likely to run into that bunch again.”

  The train was going fast, much faster now than it had been when Matt managed to catch the last car.

 

‹ Prev