While Clint and Angus buried the bodies, Mary—with Loretta’s help—whipped up a meal of tortillas and beans.
“It’s easy to make,” Mary said when Clint asked why she was making Mexican food.
While they ate, Clint again asked Angus to try and remember if the chest was on the stage when it pulled in.
“If it was on when they pulled in,” Angus said, “it was on when they pulled out. And if it wasn’t there when they pulled in . . .”
“I get it,” Clint said.
The tortillas were good, so he paid attention to them.
“They’re probably eatin’ good in there,” Franks said. “We should go down.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Duffy said. “Drink your coffee and eat your jerky.”
They were sitting across the fire from each other.
“She has a thousand dollars on her,” Franks said. “Did you know that?”
“I thought it was five hundred.”
“I saw it,” Franks said.
“Did you count it?”
“I didn’t have to,” he said. “It was a big roll.”
“She offered it to you, and you didn’t take it?” Duffy asked. “Why?”
“Because I knew you’d kill me, that’s why,” Franks said. “Besides, I still want my cut of what’s in that chest.”
“Your cut?” Duffy asked.
“Yeah,” Franks said, “I think maybe I deserve a cut now.”
Duffy thought that over and said, “Yeah, maybe you do.”
“And I think maybe we should just cut Sheriff Lane out.”
“Lane won’t like that.”
“Yeah, but you can handle him,” Franks said. “Look how you made a deal with Adams.”
Duffy thought Franks might have been getting a little too secure.
“I can take care of everybody,” Duffy said. “Don’t forget that.”
“You figurin’ on spendin’ the night?” Angus asked. “We ain’t outfitted for overnight guests.”
“No,” Clint said. “We still have some daylight. We’ll move on.”
“Good.”
While Mary washed dishes, Angus went outside, leaving Clint and Loretta sitting at the table.
“Are you sure you don’t need help, Mary?” Loretta asked.
“You just sit tight, honey,” Mary said. “You been through an ordeal.”
“So has she,” Clint said to Loretta.
“Doesn’t seem to have bothered her any,” Loretta said. “She’s pretty tough.”
“Yep, she is.”
Clint poured himself some more of Mary’s good coffee. He offered Loretta some, but she shook her head.
“Where do we go now?” she asked.
“We keep looking,” Clint said, “keep backtracking the stage.”
“What about the last few miles we sort of . . . overlooked?”
“I think Duffy and his man might have seen it if we missed it,” Clint said. “They didn’t.”
“What about Angus and Mary?” she asked.
“You think this little old couple stole your chest off the back of the stage?” he asked. “How did they get it off?”
“Just untie it and . . . let it drop.”
“And nobody noticed?”
“Hey,” she said, “it did drop off somewhere and nobody noticed.”
“While in motion,” Clint said. “If it was just sitting out there, I think somebody would’ve noticed.”
“So we’re back to where we started,” she said.
“Not really,” he replied. “We’ve eliminated all the miles between here and Westbrook. By the way, where did you catch the stage?”
“St. Joe.”
“Missouri?”
She nodded.
“That’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“Yes, it is.”
“So the sooner we get started,” Clint said, “the better.”
FORTY-ONE
Clint and Loretta said goodbye to Angus and Mary and went to the stable to get their horses. Loretta looked up to where she knew Duffy and his man were.
“What about them?” she asked.
“What about them?”
“What if they just decide to shoot us from there, with rifles?”
“They’d have to be really good.”
“Maybe they are.”
“They don’t want to kill us,” Clint said, checking Eclipse’s legs. “They want to find that chest.”
“Jesus,” she said, “it’s my chest. Doesn’t anybody understand that?”
“Everybody understands that, Loretta,” he said, checking her horse’s legs, “it’s just that nobody cares.”
“Can we outrun them?” she asked.
“I can,” Clint said, looking at her. “You can’t.”
“What if I take one of their horses,” she said, pointing into the stable.
Clint looked in at the two horses. Either one would have been better than what she was riding now.
“That’s an idea.”
“Should we change saddles?”
“No,” he said, “even their saddles are better than yours.”
They walked into the stable.
“Which one should I take?” she asked.
“This steel dust is only about five, and will run fast,” he said. “Up you go.”
“What are they doin’?” Franks asked.
“Getting ready to leave, obviously,” Duffy said.
“Yeah, but it looks like they’re switchin’ horses.”
Duffy finished kicking the fire to death and took a look.
“Looks like they’re takin’ King’s steel dust,” he said.
“It’s better than what she was ridin’,” Franks observed.
“Yeah,” Duffy said. “And faster.”
“So?”
“With that horse, and Adams’s, they can outrun us.”
“You think they’d try that?” Franks asked.
“They might.”
“Then why don’t we put a bullet into that big black horse of his right now?”
“That’s a sound idea, except for one thing,” Duffy said.
“What?”
“You kill his horse, he’ll never rest until we’re dead.”
“Then shoot the steel dust.”
“Can you hit it from here?” Duffy asked.
“I don’t know,” Franks said. “Can’t you?”
“Maybe,” Duffy said. “I’m better with a pistol.”
“So what do we do?”
Duffy frowned. “I’ll think of somethin’.”
They walked the steel dust out, put Loretta’s mare inside.
“Are we gonna leave them there?” she asked.
“The stage line can probably use them.”
They mounted up and headed away from the station.
“They can see what we’re doing,” she said.
“Hopefully they’ll just think we’re swapping for a better horse.”
“When do we run?”
“I’ll tell you,” Clint said. “For now, just relax. Get used to the new horse.”
“It feels good,” she said, bouncing in the saddle. “Stronger.”
“Don’t bounce,” Clint said, “just ride.”
They followed the road, which was filled with old ruts from the passing of previous stages over the days, or weeks. But Clint could tell which of the ruts were fresher.
“Are we going to follow the trail all the way back to St. Jo?” she asked.
“Isn’t that what you want to do?”
“No,” she said, “I want to find it long before that.”
“Maybe the next station,” Clint said, “wherever that is.”
They rode a few more miles and then Clint called their progress to a halt.
“What is it?”
“Marks,” he said, pointing. “The chest fell off here, was dragged that way.”
He dismounted, walked to the side of the road. The drag marks continued thro
ugh the brush.
“What is it?”
“Somebody hooked the chest up to the back of a horse or a mule and dragged it.”
“To where?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” he said. “Dismount. We’re going to walk.”
FORTY-TWO
The drag marks went through brush, a gulley, a field, anywhere there was no road. Whoever had taken the thing had wanted to hide the tracks as much as possible.
“Who do you think took it?” Loretta asked.
“Somebody who didn’t have the strength to lift it up onto a buckboard.”
“So they had to drag it like this.”
“Yes.”
“Back toward the station.”
“Looks like.”
“That means . . .”
“Angus and Mary.”
“I don’t think that nice old lady knew anything about it,” Loretta said.
“That nice old lady knows every move her man makes,” Clint said. “Believe me.”
“Where did they put it, then?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
“What are they doin’?” Franks said.
“Ain’t it obvious?” Duffy asked. “They’re following a trail.”
“Off the road?”
“Someone dragged the box off the road,” Duffy said.
“To where?”
Well, it looks like . . . back toward the station.”
“Maybe we should go there?” Franks said.
“No,” Duffy replied, “we’ll keep followin’ them.”
“But . . . they know we’re followin’ them. Maybe they’re just . . . tryin’ to fool us?”
“Well see, Dennis,” Duffy said. “We’ll see.
“I can’t believe that old couple stole my chest,” Loretta said.
“I think it was like you said, Loretta,” Clint said. “The box fell off. Somehow, old Angus found it and—probably with Mary’s help—dragged it somewhere. Tell me something.”
“What?”
“How hard will it be to open without a key?”
“It’s like a safe.”
“Then, maybe they haven’t gotten it open yet.”
They followed the drag marks a bit farther and then Clint said, “Yeah, they’re leading us right back to the station. Let’s go.”
They mounted up and quickened their pace.
“Damnit, Angus,” Mary said. “it’s been days and you ain’t got it opened yet. I don’t even know why you brought it here.”
Angus looked up at his wife, who was looming over him as he tried to open the chest with a hammer.
“Can’t you stop railin’ at me, woman?”
“Why don’t you just get an axe.”
“This chest is made of extremely hard wood,” Angus said, “and our axe is dull as a spoon.”
“Those people could come back any time, Angus,” Mary said. “Maybe we should’ve given the lady her box back.”
“Look,” Angus said, “Eddie told me the box fell off, instead of going back to get it. We’re supposed to split what’s in it with him when he comes back this way.”
“That thief!” she said. “We never should’ve got involved with his schemes. What if there’s nothing in there but . . . unmentionables?”
“Then we’ll get rid of it,” Angus said. He stood up. “I’m gonna get my shotgun!”
As Angus and Mary left the stable, they stopped short. Clint and Loretta were staring down at them from their horses.
“You won’t need a shotgun, or an axe,” Loretta said. “I have the key.”
FORTY-THREE
“Maybe,” Loretta said, “we should call down those two men so they can also get a look inside the chest.”
“Do you want to do that?”
“Why not?” she asked. “Let’s just show everybody what’s in the chest.”
Clint turned in his saddle and waved his arms.
“Duffy,” he called out, “bring your man down!”
“What the—” Dennis Franks said. “Why’s he callin’ us?”
“I think,” Duffy said, “we’re finally gonna get a look inside the black box.”
He started his horse down the hill, followed by Franks.
“What’s goin’ on, Adams?” Duffy asked.
“We’re all about to get a look inside this box that’s caused us much trouble, thanks to the generosity of Miss Burns.”
Loretta held the key up so they could all see it.
The two men dismounted.
“We can’t all go inside the stable,” Clint said. “Duffy, you and your man can help her drag the box out here.”
“Why are there no drag marks out here?” Loretta asked.
“I’m willing to bet they dragged it around back, got it into the stable, and then rubbed out the marks.”
Angus looked away. Mary bit her lip.
“Let’s get it out here,” Duffy said. “I want to see what’s in it.”
Clint and the two men went inside and, with little difficulty since there was three of them, dragged the box outside.
“This looks specially made,” Clint said.
“It is,” Loretta said. “I told you, it’s like a safe. It was built to resist any attempts to open it.”
“And to survive accidents,” Clint said, “like falling off the back of the stage.”
“Are we gonna open it?” Franks asked, hand on his gun.
“Duffy, tell your man to take his hand away from his gun,” Clint said warningly.
“Franks!” Duffy snapped.
Franks dropped his hand to his side.
“Loretta,” Clint said. “This box is yours. If you don’t want to open it, that’s your right. We’ll just arrange to have it taken to Westbrook.”
“Adams—” Duffy said.
“No, it’s okay,” Loretta said. “Maybe if I’d just told everyone why I wanted the box in the first place, none of this would have happened.”
“So there is somethin’ valuable in the box?” Duffy asked.
“Somethin’ other than . . . unmentionables?” Angus asked.
“There’s something valuable in here,” Loretta said, crouching down by the box, “but only to me, and one other person.”
“Who?” Clint asked.
Loretta didn’t answer. She slid the solid brass key into the lock of the box and turned it. The group heard the lock disengage.
Loretta tucked the key away, reached out for the heavy lid, and lifted it open. Everyone around her leaned in to look.
FORTY-FOUR
Loretta reached into the chest and came out with a framed photograph of a man.
“This is it,” she said.
“What?” Duffy said.
“W-what the hell—” Franks sputtered.
Mary swatted her husband and said, “I tol’ you so!”
“Who is it?” Clint asked.
“My father,” she said. “It’s the only photograph ever taken of him.”
“You said it was valuable to one other person?”
“Yes,” she said, hugging it to her chest, “my brother, Randolph. I think he’ll be coming after me for it.”
“Are you afraid of him?” Clint asked.
“He would kill me for this,” she said.
Duffy backed away from the assemblage, and Franks followed.
“This ain’t right,” Duffy said. “You wouldn’t be runnin’ around out here lookin’ for that if all you wanted was a picture.”
Loretta looked up at Duffy.
“I’m sorry, but this is it. Do you want to go through the rest of the box yourself? There’s nothing in it but my personal belongings.”
“Go through it, Dennis,” Duffy said.
Loretta got to her feet and moved away. Clint made a move to intercept Franks, but Loretta said, “No, Clint, let him.”
Clint stepped back.
Franks delved into the chest, began moving frilly things around, digging down to the bot
tom of the chest. Clint gave him credit for not dumping things on the ground.
“Nothin’,” Franks said, looking up at Duffy. “There ain’t nothin’ here. No money, no gold, nothin’!”
He stood up, backed away to stand next to Duffy.
“Satisfied?” Clint asked Duffy.
Duffy stared at Clint.
“The money.”
“What?” Clint asked.
“The thousand dollars she’s carryin’,” Duffy said. “I want it.”
Clint laughed. “If that’s all you go back to Sheriff Lane with, he’s not going to like it.”
Duffy fumed.
“On the other hand, if we all go back and explain the situation to him, maybe he’ll believe us.”
Franks looked at Duffy to see if he was buying this. Because he wasn’t.
“Duffy, a thousand dollars is a lot of money,” he said. “We can split it. Lane don’t have to know.”
Clint studied Duffy’s face.
“Maybe Duffy doesn’t want to split it with you, friend,” Clint said. “Ever think of that?”
Franks bit his lip.
“You told me she had five hundred, and you was gonna pay me a hundred. A hundred! When all the time you knew she had a thousand!”
“Shut up, Franks,” Duffy said. “He’s just tryin’ to divide us. We can take him together.”
Angus and Mary suddenly moved away, taking Loretta with them.
“Wha—” Loretta said as they wedged her between them.
“This is gonna get ugly, missy,” Mary said.
“Make it easy, Adams,” Duffy said. “Give us the thousand.”
“Let them have it, Clint!” Loretta said.
“Sorry, I can’t do that,” Clint said. “They won’t be satisfied with it. They think they’ll kill me, take the thousand, and then take you back to get them more. Or maybe they’ll kill you after they kill me.”
“Shut up,” Duffy said. He stepped a few feet away from Franks, who stayed where he was. “Give us the money, missy, or we’ll kill Adams.”
“Just relax, Loretta.”
“I’ll give you the money!” Loretta shouted.
“I won’t,” Clint said.
The Deadly Chest Page 10