Terror of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  Kennedy missed, Smoke did not.

  Keno’s cabin

  “Jensen is dead,” Pena said. “I have come to collect the rest of the money that we must pay Señor Kennedy.”

  “How do you know he is dead? Have you seen his body?”

  “Yes,” Pena lied.

  “Where is it?”

  “His body is at Lugar de las Serpientes.” Even though Pena had not seen the body as he claimed, he made the statement with absolute confidence that Smoke Jensen was, by now, lying dead at the Place of the Snakes canyon. “You can send someone to check if you wish.”

  “Santos, you go check on the body. If it is there, come back and tell me.” Then to Pena, he added, “When he returns with the word that Jensen is dead, I will give you the rest of the money.”

  “I have some other information for you, Coronel. It is information that I will give you without charge. I know where the girl is.”

  “The girl? What girl?”

  “The girl that was here. She has escaped, has she not?”

  “Sí. How did you know that she has escaped?”

  “Because I saw her in Cruillas. She is with Señora Jensen.”

  “Coronel, that is bad,” Mendez said. “She can tell others where we are. I think maybe we should do something about her.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her personally,” Keno said.

  When Smoke returned, Sally breathed a bit easier. She had immense confidence in Smoke’s ability to take care of himself, and because he was forewarned about this man, Kennedy, she wasn’t that worried. Still, it was always satisfying to see him return from a situation that she knew was dangerous.

  “Smoke! You’re wounded!”

  “It’s just a couple of pellets, and I don’t even think they’re very deep,” Smoke said. “There wasn’t much bleeding.”

  “Let me look at them.”

  Smoke cut up the side of his pants leg so Sally could see them. “No,” she said, relief in her voice. “It’s not bad. I can get them out quite easily.”

  It took Sally but a few minutes to dig out the pellets, then bathe the wounds with alcohol. There was no bleeding, and the wounds didn’t even require a bandage.

  “Smoke, I’ve been talking with Rosita,” Sally said. “She is a delightful and very bright young lady.”

  Smoke smiled. “Of course she is. She called me her knight in shining armor, didn’t she?”

  Sally chuckled. “Yes, she did. She also knows where to find Keno.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “Pena has told the truth. Jensen is dead. I saw his body,” Santos said.

  “Are you sure it is his body?”

  “I have never seen Jensen, so I don’t know what he looks like. But there is a body lying where Señor Pena said.”

  “What did you do with it?” Keno asked.

  Santos smiled. “I did nothing with it, Coronel. The animals and the birds will dispose of it.”

  “I told you,” Pena said. He extended his hand. “May I have the rest of the money now, Coronel?”

  “There is no need for me to give you the money.”

  “No need? But, Coronel, what about Señor Kennedy? He is not a man one would cheat.”

  “I won’t cheat him. When I see him I will pay him the money.”

  “Coronel, do you want me to bring him here? Do you think that is wise?”

  “Is he waiting in Cruillas for his money?”

  “Sí, Coronel.”

  “Then, I will see him after we kill the girl and Señora Jensen.”

  Pena was beginning to worry. If Keno and Kennedy were to meet, it would quickly become obvious that Pena had cheated them both.

  “I think it is not good for you to go to Cruillas. The people and the sheriff of Cruillas are not friendly to you as they are in many of the other towns.”

  “Then it is time we made them friends,” Keno said. “And as el alcalde, you can help make them into my friends.”

  “As the mayor? But, Coronel Keno, how can this be? Cruillas already has a mayor. It is Stefan Valencia.”

  “I will tell Señor Valencia that it is time he step down from the mayor’s office so that you will be the new mayor.”

  “Sheriff Rivas is a very good friend to Mayor Valencia. I think he will not like to see his friend step down.”

  “Do not worry about such things, Alcalde Pena. Rivas will be no more. You will appoint a new alguacil.”

  As they started toward Cruillas, Pena was still a little worried about how he was going to handle the meeting between Keno and Kennedy. But he was so pleased with his appointment to the position of mayor, that he would find some way to deal with that problem.

  Rosita had pointed out on a map exactly how to get to Keno’s camp, and now Smoke, Pearlie, Cal, and Old Mo were on one of the twenty separate peaks of the mountain range, looking down on Keno’s camp.

  There were people milling around in the valley below them, but few, it seemed, were actually carrying a weapon. Half a dozen campfires were going, and several of the men were gathered in groups to drink. Loud talk and laughter indicated that some of them were already drunk, and none of them had any idea that they were being observed.

  “I’ll say this for Keno,” Smoke said. “If he really is a colonel, he sure runs a loose army. Look at them. Nobody is on guard, half of them drunk, and the other half look as if they’re on the way to getting drunk.”

  “Yes, but when you have nothin’ but a bunch of outlaws, there really ain’t no such thing as discipline,” Old Mo said. “Don’t forget, I’ve rode with men like these.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Smoke said.

  “Smoke, look over there between the trees and the river,” Cal said. Do you see those two guns on tripods? What kind of guns are those? They’re too little to be cannons.”

  Smoke sighted through his scope in the direction Cal had pointed out, then he laughed.

  “Boys, those are the machine guns they’ve been using.”

  “Damn. Wouldn’t it be good now, if we could get our hands on them?” Pearlie said.

  “I can get them,” Cal replied. “Do you see how the river swings around behind those rocks? I can get down to the river there, then use the river as cover to come up to the guns, get one of them, spike the other one, then sneak back out.”

  “I don’t know, Cal, you’d sure be exposing yourself,” Smoke said. “And if you’re discovered, you would be a sitting duck.”

  “Smoke, these are the sons of bitches that killed Katrina. I want to do this, and the only thing I ask is that, when I get the gun back up here, I’m the one that gets to use it.”

  Smoke chuckled. “I tell you what, Cal. If you really can pull it off, the gun is yours to do with as you please. But, I suggest that you wait until dark. I think then you would have a better chance.”

  “All right, I’ll wait,” Cal said.

  The four men remained on top of the peak until the sun set, then Cal looked around at the others. “I’m goin’,” he said. “All I ask is that none of you shoot me when I come back.”

  “Cal, you know you’re on your own. We can’t see you from up here, so we won’t have any idea whether you’re in trouble or not.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” Cal promised.

  Cruillas

  “Señora Jensen!” Rosita said. “It is him! It is Coronel Keno!”

  Rosita was coming back into the house, having just stepped out back to the privy in preparation for going to bed.

  “What? Where is he?”

  “I saw him and another man behind the house that is there.” She pointed to the building next door, the one that had been used by Pearlie, Cal, and Old Mo.

  “He has come to take me back!” Rosita said, the tone of her voice betraying her fright.

  “He isn’t going to take you back,” Sally said.

  “Lock the door! Please, lock the door!”

  Sally locked the door because Rosita was begging her to do
so, though she knew that a locked door meant nothing. The men who had come in earlier had used a pass key, and she was sure that if there was one pass key, there would be another one.

  Remembering that she and Smoke had moved into the shadows of the corner before, she decided to use the same tactic. But then both she and Smoke had been armed. Tonight she was the only one with a gun, and she had to protect Rosita.

  The men who had come before had seen, at once, that the bed was empty. That gave Sally an idea, an idea that might give her an advantage.

  Working quickly, she put pillows and other bulky things under the blankets to make it appear as if she and Rosita were in bed. Then she took Rosita over to a corner . . . opposite from the corner where she planned to be.

  “Sit here and don’t make a sound,” Sally warned.

  Rosita, with her eyes open wide and gleaming in the moonlight, nodded.

  Sally stepped quickly to the other corner, getting there just as the door was opened. As she had suspected, there had been another key. Two men came in, though in the dark she couldn’t make out their features.

  The two men stepped up to the bed and began blazing away. Sally let them shoot several times before she called out to them.

  “I am here!”

  “Qué?” one of the two men shouted. Both men swung toward her but, as Smoke had done in the earlier invasion, Sally had moved immediately after calling out. The two men started shooting into the corner toward the sound of her voice. Sally fired back. Sally was an excellent shot, cool with a gun, and motivated by protecting the child that had been left in her care. She had the muzzle flashes to aim at, and it took no more than four shots before both of the men went down.

  “Smoke, Pearlie, it’s me!” Cal called from the darkness.

  Cal had been gone for an hour and the only way Smoke and the others had to measure his success was the fact that there had been no gunshots. Smoke had taken that as a good sign, and Cal’s appearance now bore that out.

  “Did you get the gun?” Pearlie asked.

  “I got the gun, five loaded magazines, and a whole sack full of shells for it,” Cal said, the excitement noticeable in his voice.

  “What about the other gun?” Smoke asked.

  “I’ve got so much mud poked down into the barrel that it’s goin’ to be quite a surprise to anyone who tries to use it.”

  “All right, gentlemen, let’s get some rest,” Smoke said. “We start first thing in the morning.”

  By sunrise the next morning all four men were in position, looking down on the encampment. Several of Keno’s men were awake, and the smell of coffee filled the valley.

  “Mo, do you think you could put an arrow on the roof of the cabin?” Smoke asked.

  “I can do that easy,” Old Mo replied.

  “Then let’s wake ’em up.”

  Old Mo drew back on the bow, Smoke lit the fuse, then the arrow was loosed. It trailed a little line of smoke through the air as it flew down toward the cabin below. It stuck down into the roof, then, a second later, exploded with a roar.

  “Cal, get that thing going!” Smoke said, and Cal started turning the crank on the gun. Smoke and Pearlie began shooting as well, and on the ground below, men ran to and fro, shouting out in fear and confusion.

  “There’s one goin’ for that other gun,” Pearlie called.

  “Let ’im go!” Smoke said and they watched as the man swung the gun toward them, then turned the crank. The barrel burst with the first round fired, and the man went down.

  Cal continued to crank away on the machine gun and Old Mo launched several more dynamite arrows toward them, as Smoke and Pearlie continued to shoot.

  “Wait a minute! Stop firing!” Smoke said a moment later. “Look at them! They’re leaving, all of them! They’re running away!”

  Cautiously, Smoke and the others rode down into the valley. They found weapons lying everywhere, and they counted twenty-three bodies on the ground. They didn’t see one living person.

  “I wonder if one of these is Keno, or did he get away?” Old Mo asked.

  “I don’t know, but I see our horses back there,” Smoke said. “I say we gather up the guns, toss them into the house and burn them, then get the horses and go back home.”

  Epilogue

  Smoke, Sally, Pearlie, and Old Mo were in the dining car on the train, heading back to Sugarloaf Ranch.

  “Say, Miz Sally, why don’t you show us that medal the Mexican government gave you for killin’ Keno again?” Pearlie asked.

  “It wasn’t the whole government, it was just Captain Cortina and the Federales,” Sally replied.

  “Yeah, but the thing is, you’re the one that got it,” Pearlie said. “Ever’one would have thought it would be Smoke who killed Keno, but it was you.”

  “It wasn’t just Keno,” Old Mo said. “Him and Pena both come after her, and she got ’em both. I reckon they just didn’t have no idea of what they was runnin’ into.”

  “We didn’t have to go down there, we could have just sent Sally,” Smoke said. “Now they’ll be writing books about her instead of me.”

  “Smoke, jealousy doesn’t become you,” Sally teased.

  Smoke laughed, then leaned over to kiss her. “I’m proud of you, darlin’. I knew Rosita would be safe with you.”

  “If y’all are goin’ to start this lovin’, maybe me ’n’ Mo should leave,” Pearlie suggested.

  “You wouldn’t want to leave before dessert, would you?” Sally asked.

  “No, ma’am, I sure wouldn’t want to do that. The wonder is that Cal left. I figured sure he’d be wantin’ dessert.”

  “I think I’ll go check on him,” Smoke said. “Order dessert for both of us.”

  Smoke walked back into the Wagner Palace car and saw Cal sitting at the far end, staring through the window. Smoke moved down to take the seat across from him.

  “Cal, are you all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Smoke didn’t reply because he had the idea that Cal wanted to say something and he was going to give him time to come up with the words.

  “Smoke, how long did it take you to get over losing Nicole?”

  The question referred to Smoke’s first wife, who had been killed by outlaws several years ago.

  “What makes you think I am over her, Cal?”

  “But you must be. I mean, you’re married to Miz Sally, and I know you love her ’cause I see it every day.”

  “Of course I love Sally. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still love and miss Nicole. She is in a special part of my heart, and she will be until the day I die. Just as I suspect Katrina will be for you. Life will go on for you, Cal. And I’m sure that someday you’ll find another woman. But that doesn’t mean you have to push Katrina aside.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, ’cause I don’t ever intend to forget Katrina.”

  “You’re a good man, Cal. I’m glad she found you before she died. Take heart in the fact that she died happy and in love.”

  “Yeah,” Cal said with a wide grin. “Yeah, she did, didn’t she?”

  “I told Sally to order dessert for us. What do you say we go see what it is?”

  Cal nodded, then stood and followed Smoke toward the dining car. The train blew its whistle then, a long, mournful wail, and Cal smiled. It was as if Katrina had just spoken to him.

  TURN THE PAGE FOR AN EXCITING PREVIEW!

  WILLIAM W. JOHNSTONE,

  WITH J. A. JOHNSTONE,

  The Greatest Western Writers of the 21st Century

  They called him Preacher.

  On the rolling Missouri River a riverboat of fur traders, a U.S. senator, and Prussian royalty are all heading to the Yellowstone from St. Louis. Preacher’s on board because the nation’s fate depends on the passengers landing safe and sound. But it won’t be easy. Two beautiful women make a play for Preacher. So does a killer. So does a band of river pirates. No sooner does Preacher beat back these threats than the riverboat lands in the middle of a
blood-soaked Indian ambush—with a Prussian nobleman and his family taken hostage.

  Preacher has no choice but to go off in pursuit, even with a traitor trying to slaughter him.

  Someone wants to start a war and change the course of American history. Only a lone mountain man and the ambush of bullets he wields with deadly, unerring force stand in the way . . .

  PREACHER’S SLAUGHTER

  by William W. Johnstone,

  with J. A. Johnstone

  Coming in January 2015

  Wherever Pinnacle Books are sold.

  Chapter One

  One of these days he was going to just stop coming to St. Louis, Preacher told himself as he looked down the barrel of the flintlock pistol the angry black-bearded man was pointing at him. It seemed like trouble was always waiting for him every time he set foot in civilization.

  Preacher dived forward as smoke and flame spouted from the pistol. The heavy lead ball hummed through the space where his chest had been a split second earlier.

  Preacher landed on a shoulder and rolled over with the lithe, athletic grace of a younger man. Preacher was approaching middle age but didn’t look or act like it. The life he had lived since leaving his family’s farm and heading for the frontier more than two decades earlier had kept him young.

  As he let the momentum of the somersault carry him back up onto his feet, he considered snatching his heavy hunting knife from the fringed and beaded sheath at his waist and plunging it into the gunman’s chest.

  Hell, the varmint deserved it, Preacher thought. He’d pulled a gun, after all.

  But while killing this idiot wouldn’t make Preacher lose a minute’s sleep, dealing with the law afterward would be an annoyance. The authorities had started to frown on wanton slaughter, even in raucous riverfront taverns like Red Mike’s.