by John McNally
‘Look, I was shot yesterday.’
‘There was a lot of people hurt yesterday, mister,’ said Priddy. ‘All that shows is that one of our boys plugged you good when you shot up the settlement.’
Mooney suppressed a smile, he studied Crick and recognized his type; it was all about the money. He said, ‘You, Crick, listen good. The gold’s hidden away where you’ll never find it. You’re a businessman so here’s the deal. I’ll give you half of it if you let me have the other half and ride away.’
Crick weighed him up with staring lidless reptile eyes and said, ‘I’ll give you ten thousand.’
The vigilantes murmured in anger.
‘Now you hold your goddamn horses there, Crick,’ said Don Plunkett in a gritty voice. ‘They killed a lot of folk we knew. We got the others that done it and this one dies as well, there ain’t any of them riding away from this, you hear me good on that.’
Don Plunkett looked like the kind of man you listened to. He had a hard look about him, as if his shirt was packed with stones, and his sleeves were rolled up on thick sunburned arms. He came across as decent and honest. People saw the scars on his hands but not those that criss-crossed his back and shoulders. Two years ago he’d been hard rock mining, and they sank shafts into solid rock working with picks and shovels. They supported the shafts and tunnels with timber beams along the walls and headframes. They’d hit an underground river and it tore through the tunnel. The torrent swept the two miners in front of Plunkett off their feet but Plunkett grabbed them as they passed and pushed his way across to a side tunnel. The water swept rocks and debris against his back, tearing and clawing at him but he clung on to his two friends and dragged them to safety. He said he’d never go back underground.
When Don Plunkett spoke folk listened.
‘We know you want your gold back and to be fair that’s understandable, but get this straight. The men who shot up Sailors Diggings will be punished. There ain’t no deal with them, I done told you that already. Last I heard they killed seventeen. You don’t pay nobody off just to get your gold back. We’ll help you find the gold if we can. That reward you’re offering should go to the families of the miners killed yesterday.’
Eddie Carter listened. This ain’t going right, he thought, they think I’m one of the gang. If I ain’t careful they’ll like as string me up. Who can help me then? Well, Arnie for sure but he’s back at the claim. Then there’s the drummer Quincy Roof, he patched me up and knows I’m not involved. If I can find him, they’ll have to listen to him but I don’t know where he is. And when I think about it, maybe they never saw me over at O’Brien either when I shot Cooper and the others.
Carter looked out of the corner of his eyes at Mooney. Mooney sat and stared at the fire, the embers still burned but the top of the fire started to crumble to grey ash with a red glow under the blackened logs. Mooney kicked a couple of large branches on to the fire and the dry leaves flared for a moment. A gun cocked and Plunkett aimed his weapon at Mooney and said, ‘The next time you move I’ll kill you.’
Mooney shrugged his big shoulders but did not say anything, he just squatted on his haunches in front of the fire, looking into the flames with a smirk on his face and waited.
Carter gazed at Mooney and thought, what in the hell is he so pleased about and why the hell is he banking the fire up. Goddamn it, I bet he’s buried the gold under the fire pit. That’s it, that’s why he risked a fire in the night and is keeping it burning. That’s got to be it, there’s too much dirt around the pit when I think on it. He’s dug it deep and put the gold under stones with the fire on top, he learned that from us yesterday.
Carter was about to call over to Crick and tell him but he stopped himself.
No, that’s no good, I can’t say anything, he thought. If I’m right and the gold’s there they’ll all think I know because I’m in on it with Mooney. I’d best keep quiet for now and see how it plays out.
He looked up as Melvin Priddy spoke.
‘I say we hang them both here and now. Hang them first then talk to them later.’ He took a rope off his saddle and said, ‘I think—’
Crick interrupted him. ‘I don’t pay you to think, Priddy. Don’t be an idiot. We don’t kill them until they give up the gold. We can make them talk if we need to. I have people who can do that.’
Priddy’s face burned with embarrassment and humiliation. He clenched his teeth, a lump of cartilage flexed in his jaw as he bit down on his anger and mumbled, ‘You don’t ought to talk to me like that.’
Crick ignored him, puffed his cheeks and blew out his breath, cleaned out his ear with his finger and said, ‘I’ll tell you what though, thinking on it maybe there’s something in that. We could hang this one,’ he pointed with his chin at Carter, ‘and that will show Mooney we mean business.’
Carter began to chew on his finger nail and said, ‘I done told you, I ain’t with Mooney. I don’t rightly know what I can do to show you that.’ He paused, and he pulled at his ear, then asked, ‘Do any of you know Quincy Roof, a bald trader who runs a wagon in these parts?’ He saw the giant with the wild beard, Don Plunkett, nod and he spoke directly to him. ‘I met him yesterday morning at my claim in California after Mooney shot me and before they killed those folk in town, he bandaged me up and knows I was chasing Mooney.’
‘Enough,’ said Crick. ‘Mooney, does this man ride with you?’ They all turned towards him but Mooney stared at the fire, picked at his teeth with his finger nail and kept quiet. ‘Right, that’s good enough for me,’ said Crick, ‘let’s hang him and get to it with Mooney.’
‘Hold on,’ said Plunkett. He raised a finger at Crick to quieten him down. ‘We’ve got to be sure we got the right man before we go stretching his neck. We need to do this right. Let’s just cool our heels.’
Crick still sat on his horse, his arms folded across his narrow chest and his face tight with anger.
‘What the hell is it with you people? First off, you say don’t do a deal, you just want to kill them. Now you’re whining, saying not to kill him because he might not have done it. Look, most of those who get hanged deserve what they get and that’s good enough for me. If we hang him and he ain’t one of them, he won’t be complaining, will he?’
Plunkett spoke with authority and patience.
‘Mooney’s going to die. I need to be sure about this other feller. I’m going to ride back to Sailors Diggings and ask around. I’ll see if I can find Quincy Roof, we can trust him. Let’s see what he has to say. Why don’t you keep searching for your gold while I’m gone?’ He pointed a big thick finger at Crick. ‘I expect to see Mooney here and that young feller Carter still alive when I get back. Then we talk about who we kill and when we do it.’
Plunkett’s voice rang with a heavy, quiet command and it seemed plain that Crick did not like it but it was just as obvious he was not the man to cross someone as tough as Don Plunkett.
Crick sniffed, looked away and said, ‘Priddy, you stay here. I’ll get as many as I can out looking for the gold. Now that it’s got light we’ll check the back trail from Sailors Diggings. When we’ve done that we’ll come back and search that wood and those hills.’ He pointed at Priddy. ‘You wait here and you watch those two, you kill them if they move.’ He rummaged in a saddle-bag. ‘Here’s some handcuffs, chain the two of them together, we’ll cover you before we move out. We’ll take all of the mules and horses except yours. We’ll come back here in about two hours, I’ll keep the screw key for the cuffs.’ They took the heavy manacles and locked one of the metal rings around Mooney’s right wrist and the other around Carter’s left.
Crick looked at Plunkett. ‘If you’re not back with some news soon I’ll kill the Californian called Carter.’
Carter closed his eyes and shook his head.
The others left, Priddy sat on a rock with a carbine laid across his thigh. Mooney looked at the flames and said, ‘I’m keeping the fire going, friend, but I won’t move from here.’ As he spoke he glanced
up, looked at Priddy and his eyes said, I’ll kill you.
CHAPTER 12
Mooney leaned forward and whispered to Carter, ‘If you hadn’t walloped me, I might have set them straight about you not working with me but you’ve got yourself in a fine pickle now and you won’t get no help from me. Like as not they’re going to hang us both come the afternoon, so I aim to bust out of here. Seeing as how we’re chained together like a couple of wagon horses, you’re coming with me, you hear me on that? Stay here and you die.’
Carter looked as mean as a bull whip but knew he was trapped. Mooney’s right, he thought, there’s a good chance they’ll hang me unless Plunkett finds the trader Quincy Roof. Plunkett seemed a decent sort, I can maybe count on him. The rest look as though they might just string me up for the hell of it, I cain’t take that chance. It’s just like the dadburned war, I cain’t sit back and depend on others, I can only rely on myself. I’ve got to get away from here first. Then I’ll kill Mooney and set things straight.
His heart started to race, he tightened his damp hands into fists and whispered out of the side of his mouth to Mooney, ‘I’ll come with you but don’t take that the wrong way, it ain’t over between us.’
Mooney looked off into the sunlight across the fields and finally stared across the fire and said, ‘Hey, mister.’ Priddy glanced up. ‘How would you like to make $30,000? I’ll give you half of the gold if you let me go, we can ride out together. We can be long gone by the time the others get back. Thirty thousand dollars worth of gold, imagine what you could do with that and you can have it in the next ten minutes.’
Melvin Priddy was not a bad man. He didn’t think too much about things, stuff happened and he didn’t study on it. He drifted into a job with Crick who treated him like something on the end of a dung fork. He did the dirty work and got sassed by everybody. He accepted it, after all, that’s how life had always treated him, even when he was young. He didn’t remember his mother. Everyone called his pa Canada Bill, no-one said why but he’d never been anywhere near Canada as far as Priddy knew. Anyway, one day Canada Bill left him with a cousin and went up north panning for gold. Priddy watched him walk off in the rain. He never came back but then Priddy never thought he would. He left the cousin when he was fifteen or so and doubted anyone missed him. He drifted along for years then attached himself to Crick, someone who pushed him around and paid him not to think. He never expected anything and that’s what he usually got. Until now, he decided, today was his lucky day. Thirty thousand there for the taking. He felt his time had come around and all of those folk who had used him, well, he was about to spit in their eyes. He did not hesitate.
‘Yes, for thirty thousand you got a deal,’ he said to Mooney. ‘I’ll let you go for that sort of money.’
Carter did not say anything, he sat with his head down and traced a circle in the dirt with the toe of his boot. How can you be so stupid, he thought, why would you trust a man like Mooney. I wish someone could explain that to me. He’s a murderer and a thief. It’s obvious that as soon as he gets the chance he’ll kill you. But I cain’t say anything, I need to get away and it looks like I’m stuck with Mooney for the time being. They took the key to the chains with them when they rode out so we have to go together but by God I’ll see he dies for what he’s done to me.
When they threatened to hang him, he felt terrified and the fear still clung to him like an old cobweb that he could not shake off. Anger welled up inside him, burned through him and lit up his cheeks but he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
‘Can you get these chains off us, mister?’ said Mooney in a quiet voice.
‘Nope, Crick’s got the only key. Besides which, you’re easier to handle chained together.’
‘Sure thing, you’re in charge right enough. I’m going to stand,’ said Mooney. ‘Don’t get all riled up when I do. You’re a rich man now, all you got to do is help us get out of here and I’ll see you get what’s coming to you.’
Carter sighed but kept quiet.
‘Where’s the gold?’ said Priddy.
‘Now take it easy, I ain’t going to tell a smart feller like you straight off or you might get ideas about keeping the whole lot,’ said Mooney. His eyes did not stray or blink as they locked on Priddy’s face and stayed there. Mooney stood and yanked at the chain on his wrist, bringing Carter to his feet.
‘Let’s walk down the hill a piece,’ Mooney said, pointing behind Priddy with his chin. The sky was bright blue and the land brilliant with sunshine.
‘You see that twisted tree behind you in that stand of pine? Well, we need to start off from there.’
Priddy motioned for them to follow him, as they walked down to the tree they closed in a little on Priddy but Mooney did not hurry. Carter felt tense, he moved woodenly and because he waited for something to happen it seemed to take forever.
‘You see that ridge?’ said Mooney, pointing.
Priddy stopped and looked up and Mooney shifted alongside him. Mooney moved quickly for a big man; he locked his free arm around Priddy’s throat and pulled him into his shoulder. Priddy’s jaw went slack and his mouth dropped open. Mooney held him so tightly that Priddy could feel Mooney’s breath on his cheek and smell the wood smoke in his clothes. He worked his mouth and tried to speak but in a harsh whisper Mooney said, ‘You’re going to hell, partner, and you ain’t got the time for talking.’
Priddy sucked air in loudly through his mouth and then his breathing became more ragged as Mooney squeezed the life out of him. His eyes rolled back in his head and his legs buckled under him.
‘Enough,’ said Carter, grabbing the carbine out of Priddy’s limp hand and pointing it at Mooney.
Mooney kept the pressure on, looked at Carter with contempt and said, ‘Give me the gun right now or I’ll snap his neck. Look in my eyes and tell me I’m lying.’
‘I’ll give you the gun but you leave that man be. We tie him up and get gone down the road, they’ll be back in a couple of hours. If you kill him you’ll have to shoot me and that shot will bring the others running. Then you’ll have to drag me behind you when you try to make a run for it, you hear?’
Mooney took the rifle, kicked Priddy in the head and left him unconscious on the ground.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s go. There’ll be a reckoning between the two of us right soon.’
Carter stood and looked at him and said, ‘I’ll be waiting at the end of the street for you whenever you want to come a-calling.’
Priddy was out cold, they left him tied up by the fire and rode out, doubled up, on his horse. Mooney rode behind Carter with the gun. They walked the horse for a couple of miles as the trail climbed upwards, slowly at first, cutting into the slope but it narrowed and curved high into the hills then sliced through the trees. The woods made heavy going, a maze of juniper, the floor a tangled carpet of briar and weed. Then the breeze smelled of water and they rode down a long sloping valley that fanned out into a bluff above a slow moving silent river. They did not speak, they had nothing to say to each other until finally Carter broke the silence.
‘Ride in the shallows down river for a while then cut up one of the creeks on the far side and hope we lose them.’
Mooney grunted, he knew that he could not kill Carter while he was chained to him but he was impatient to be free and ride back to the camp and pick up the gold. He reckoned that it was unlikely that anyone would find the gold buried under the fire, they would just leave the camp and cover the fire. He could ride in after dark and pick the gold up but still he felt uneasy leaving it behind.
An hour later they left the river and rode up a shale wash, the earth broken and stony under a harsh sun. They passed up a long ribbon of water through a funnel of trees. Inside the trees the hot motionless air, bladed with sunlight and thick with flies, hit them like a fist.
Below them a track wound into a bank of hills and they saw an isolated dust-blown paintless frame house tucked against crag. The house shaded down one side by a s
creen of bitter cherry trees. The cabin looked still and dark like someone had died there and the place still mourned for them. Away from the cabin, a big boned mule that looked like it had seen a lot of miles, stood cropping nettles, his tail flicked lazily while he fed. The whole scene held a peculiar heavy quietness, a sense that something was not quite right about the place. They watched a tall figure splitting firewood on a stump by the barn, he placed a block of lumber on its end, hefted a range axe in both hands and split it in half with a dry thunk. He threw the kindling onto a pile, picked another hunk of wood and swung the axe again, absorbed in the work.
Mooney whispered, ‘We’ll ride in and get that farm boy to break this bracelet with the axe. Keep your arm down until I’m close enough to shove the rifle in his face. I won’t kill him, don’t fret none. We need him to swing that axe.’ He dug his boots into the horse’s sides and moved down to the cabin.
I’ve got to be careful now, thought Carter, Mooney will be holding the rifle and as soon as the chain is cut he’ll be looking to shoot me and the farmer. He just wants rid of us so that he can ride back, sneak in and get the gold. I cain’t warn the farmer though I figure Mooney could just as soon kill us both now and free himself. I’ll have to hope that he don’t realize that. I’ll not say a thing, I’ll play along until the chain’s split. What the hell I do then I don’t know, I hope I reckon on something right soon.
The farmer heard the horse walking down the slope as the hoofs thudded softly on a carpet of dust and he watched them in. As they neared he saw that the first rider was clean shaved with a good-natured face and no sign of a gun. The one behind him was a different matter altogether, he had a big body that looked like it was carved out of hardwood and a face straight out of a nightmare. His size seemed to give off a sense of uncontrolled violence and his face screamed get out of my way, I’m going to hell and taking you with me. The farmer twisted around and reached for his gun.