She stepped through the door.
Matt and Sam were seated at a table with Hart, Shannahan, and a few other men. Most of the men were drinking beer.
Matt was the first to see her.
“Malinda! What are you doing here?”
“I’ve got something important to tell you.”
Hart said, “If it’s personal, we can leave . . .”
“No. It’s nothing like that. Jordan plans to kill you.”
“That’s not news,” Sam said. “We’ve been waiting for him to make his play.”
“Not just you, Sam, and Matt. But Hart. And as many of his men as he can shoot.”
“Might be easier said than done,” Sam said. “He hasn’t done such a hot job, so far.”
“No, you don’t understand. He plans to blow the dam.”
Matt stood up, took her hands in his. “Slow down,” he said. “What exactly does Jordan plan to do?”
“He’s going to blow the dam.”
“And what will that accomplish?”
“I can answer that,” Hart said. “The way the dam’s built, water is diverted from this area, making digging operations possible for Jordan and for myself. But Jordan is better capitalized. He thinks he can rebuild while I’d be ruined.”
“Would it?”
“I don’t know. It’d be a severe setback. What’s worse is the men it could hurt or kill. There’s lots of people camping in the path of the flood. And my men could be killed who are working in the area.”
“So that explains why he was moving his men to higher ground,” Sam said. “I should have thought of that!”
“You’re still not used to the white man’s devious ways,” Matt said.
“There’s more truth to that than I care to admit,” Sam answered.
Matt asked Malinda, “When do they plan to blow up the dam?”
“I don’t know. I overheard the talk. I didn’t hear everything that was said. I think they’re going to do it tonight. They also plan to have some sharpshooters stationed around town to pick off as many of Hart’s men as possible in the confusion. Caphorn is to get Matt and Sam.”
“I’m going to the dam,” Matt said. “Sam, would you and Hart do what you can to get as many to safety as possible?”
“You got it.”
Malinda had not yet let go of Matt’s hands. She said, “Matt? I have a favor to ask you.”
“All you need to do is ask.”
“Try to take it easy on Jordan. I know it looks pretty bad for him. And I know he deserves to be punished. I’m not sure he deserves to be killed. I know it’s stupid, but he has been good to me in the past. And I would hate to be the one who caused him to be killed.”
“Don’t worry, Malinda,” Matt said. “I won’t kill him in cold blood. Nor will Sam. You have my word on that.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, I want you to get back to the hotel. I want you someplace relatively safe when the shooting starts. This is one time you won’t be able to help. No matter what happens, please stay in your room. I don’t want your singing career cut short by a stray bullet.”
Matt watched Malinda walk down the street through the open saloon door.
“No figuring women, is there?” Sam asked.
“I never have found a way.”
“Here’s a woman who may be risking her life by warning us of Jordan’s plan. Yet, her final request to you is not to be too hard on Jordan. How can she have it both ways?”
“Our’s is not to reason why, it’s just to be confused as hell,” Matt said.
“So true!”
Hart asked, “You know where the dam is?”
“I’ve seen it on some of my rides. Anything special I should know about it?”
“Not really. It’s just a lot of earth and logs. It’s pretty sturdy, but it wouldn’t take much of a jolt for it to come crashing down.”
“You all try and warn everybody. Watch out for Jordan’s men taking potshots at you. I’ll try and join you all when I can. If I can.”
Chapter Twenty
It was night, but the moon and stars were out, casting plenty of light for Strep to see to his work. He wondered if this time he had stayed with the job too long. This was not his kind of work. He probably should have said his piece and moved on. Let Caphorn and Jordan do what they wanted, and leave him out of it. But he had come this far, so would stick it out.
Strep walked along the top of the makeshift dam, looked down into the deep water on one side, the relative dryness on the other side. The stream that was dammed up was barely a river, though now that its natural flow was diverted, it looked bigger than it was. And there was enough water that it would wreak havoc on the town once it was freed.
The dam had never been intended to be permanent in the first place. As Strep looked it over, he wondered how it had even lasted this long. It didn’t look solid enough to hold five minutes. The gunfighter walked back and forth, looking for the potential weak spots that had been shown to him.
“Oh, to hell with it,” Strep growled. “Who cares what some educated fool thinks. One spot’s as good as another.”
He paused on the other side, where some timber had been used to reinforce the makeshift structure. He inserted some explosive, and then a little more for good measure. He walked several paces down, and did the same in another section. He repeated this several times until he had crossed the entire length of the dam.
Strep remembered something about needing to blow the structure somewhere toward the middle. He got down to his belly, looked more closely at the side of the structure away from the water. It was not really dry, and in a few places a trickle of water seemed to seep through. On the other side, he heard the dark water splash in response to the slight wind that had picked up.
“Hell, do they expect me to climb this thing like a damned monkey?” Strep muttered. “They’re lucky I’m out her at all. I should have told Jordan off and skipped town when those blasted blood-brothers first hit town.”
He reached down as far as he could, carelessly stuck in some explosive and let out some fuse.
“There, that’s good enough,” Strep said.
Satisfied with his work, the gunfighter moved back to the side nearest the town. He had almost made it to solid ground when the voice called out in the night.
“Stop right there, Strep. We know all about your plan. Drop everything and I won’t shoot.”
Strep yelled out, “Damn you, Bodine!”
The town of Jordanville seemed almost deserted. Even the saloons seemed quieter than usual.
“I figure most people in this town will stay clear of the shooting,” Sam said. “The ones that are still in town. By now I suppose most everybody’s scurrying for higher ground.”
“I wish Jordan would call this craziness off,” Hart said. “This feud’s gone on long enough.”
“He won’t,” Sam said grimly. “Like may men who’ve had a taste of money and power, he’s not going to give it up. It’s not just the money anymore. Now it’s a matter of not being beat by you.”
“You’re right. I plan to stay here and build something. I want the earth to give its riches, sure, but I want to leave something behind, as well. Jordan would never give me any peace. Maybe it’s just as well.”
“If he hasn’t caught on yet that his plan isn’t working too well, he’ll find out soon enough. With your men situated near the hotel and other areas near the hotel, we should be fairly well protected. Jordan probably has his men in place already, as well.”
“I don’t particularly like this place,” Hart said, gesturing to the barn where Sam had decided to position him. “It’s too far from the action.”
“Neither one of us know that. You’re a steady hand with a gun, I think, and you can handle yourself in a close-up fight. You’ll be needed here.”
“I owe you a lot. I’ll do as you suggest.”
“Good man. I’m going to check on some of your other men. This promises to be a long
night.”
Matt knew exactly where the dam was. He rode quickly to it, but stopped his horse some distance away and made the rest of the way on foot. Already, the old stream bed outside of the main area of town was starting to grow up, giving him plenty of cover. He wasn’t sure which direction the water would flow, if he couldn’t stop Strep in time, so he made sure his horse was tied on higher ground. And Matt tried to stay on higher ground as he approached the dam.
From this distance, the dam was not a pretty sight. It was mainly a long, rough shadow against the dark night. The moon and stars cast enough light to illuminate the top and edges of the earthen structure. It looked to Matt as if the dam wasn’t too steady to start with and that a heavy wind could blow it over.
Matt moved as quietly as ever, staying in the shadows. He had no firm plan, only to try and stop Strep if he could.
Matt finally got in close enough that he could make out details of the dam. Movement caught his eye. It was Strep, belly-down on the dam, leaning over with his explosives. He was not quite within firing range. Matt moved in a little closer, positioning himself for a clear shot, if need be. He yelled out to Strep, who dropped to the ground again. He was temporarily invisible.
Matt took a shot, just to see if he could get a reaction out of Strep. No shots were returned.
Matt moved in a little closer, when he saw the match flare up. He shot, but the bullet hit a tree between him and Strep.
“You can’t get away with this,” Matt said.
“Damn you, Bodine,” Strep called back. “This is it for me. I’m gone.”
Another shot sliced through the night. It was from neither Matt’s nor Strep’s guns.
Caphorn knew he probably should not have taken this additional job without first pocketing the money, but he was already tired of this poor excuse for a town. He wanted to get his work done and move out. If getting rid of Strep would get the job done faster, then that’s what he would do.
Caphorn generally tried to at least provide the illusion of a fair fight when he killed somebody. It was good for his reputation. Sometimes, however, he was not quite so nice about it. This was one of those times.
He had waited until the fuse was lit, so that the dam would blow. Now, Strep’s job was done and he was expendable. Caphorn against sited down the barrel of his rife, aimed at Strep.
Caphorn fired again and again, each time bringing the bullets that much closer to their intended target.
He had figured that Matt would figure that somebody was helping him corner Strep, but the blood-brother for some reason had stopped his shooting. Strep had heard some of the stories being told in town about Matt and Sam. If they were to be believed, both of them were half-crazy. There was no telling what Bodine was planning now.
Strep leaped for safety, giving Caphorn his best shot yet, even if it was at a moving target. Caphorn fired another quick shot. This one was a solid hit.
As Strep fell to the ground, Caphorn considered going after Matt. Then the dam exploded, and Caphorn decided instead to return to town. The dam was crumbling, and if he guessed Matt’s location correctly, he would be caught in the edges of the unleashed waters.
If the water didn’t kill him, then he and Caphorn would meet in town.
Caphorn figured either way Matt Bodine would die that night.
Strep, on his belly, was inching away from the lit fuse. He was not surprised to hear Matt’s voice or his gun.
The shot from the third person did surprise him.
The gunfighter would have generally took the time to determine where his assailant was hiding and return some shots. With the lit fuse burning away, he didn’t have that luxury this time.
He scurried backwards faster and faster.
A bullet hit just inches from his head. Strep new it wasn’t Matt shooting at him. It was from the wrong angle. Could it be Two-Wolves, or somebody else?
The fuse was getting near its charge. Strep stood, dived from the embarrassment into the brush below.
The lead slug hit him in the back as he dived through the air. The heavy metal tore through his skin, muscle and bone, exiting out the other side in a blur of blood.
He landed awkwardly. He leg was broken where he had hit the ground. Not that it made any difference. He could feel the life flowing out of the jagged wound in his body.
His eyes had gone sightless before the dam exploded.
Matt was puzzled. Who else had come to the dam looking for Strep? Matt knew it wasn’t Sam, who was organizing forces in town. Maybe one of Hart’s men? That didn’t seem likely.
Whoever it was seemed to be out for blood. He fired shot after shot at Strep, who was trying to get away from the dam.
Matt paused. Should he also go after Strep? Or should he investigate the third person, now doing the shooting?
Strep suddenly came to an open area. He stood, tried to dive for safer cover in the brush, but it was too late. The slug hit the gunfighter solidly in the body, tearing a large hole in him as it exited. He fell awkwardly to the ground and lay still.
Matt knew the other man was dead.
But it was too late to stop the dam from blowing. Too much of the fuse had already burned away.
Matt stood to make a run for his horse when he felt the explosion before he heard it. The force of the explosion hit him like a gust of hot air. The roar followed a split second behind.
Matt turned to look. The explosives had not been set very well, and most of the dam remained intact. Several large chunks had been blasted away, leaving the top and sides uneven. The damage had weakened the overall structure, however, and already a steady stream of water was pouring over the top, eroding away the base of the structure on the other side.
In other parts of the dam, water was starting to stream through in a muddy mess. The top part of the dam almost seemed to weave back and forth under the force of the water.
Suddenly a massive chunk of earth split off and fell to the ground. Water gushed through the opening. The stream weakened the structure even more and several more sections dissolved into the water.
This had all taken only seconds, though to Matt it seemed like an eternity. He hurried even faster up the hill to his horse, to get back to town hopefully before the water hit.
Things didn’t quite work out that way.
With a sound like a loud crack, the rest of the earthen dam gave way, unleashing the full fury of the water that had been trapped behind it. With a roar, it washed away what was left of the dam and took with it uprooted trees.
Matt, in spite of his precautions, couldn’t avoid the onrushing water. He had no choice but to try and ride it out. He took a deep breath just before the water hit, and tried to relax and go with the torrential stream. The water hit him with an impact that took him off his feet and almost knocked the breath out of him.
Somehow he managed to rise to the top of the stream, where he gulped in another mouth full of air. He was being pelted on all sides by fallen limbs and roots. He was rushing down the old stream bed at an amazing speed, though the new growth was slowing it down some. He reached out, grabbed a tree trunk and held on for dear life.
Jordan was in his office when he heard the explosion. His men had been stationed around town. They were supposed to wait until he water hit the town, forcing Hart’s men into the streets, before they started firing. Even so, the brief explosion seemed to serve as a signal of some sort, and the gunfire started even before the water hit.
That was unusual. Who had started the shooting?
He looked out the window, and was even more surprised. Several riders were rushing down the street carrying lit torches. It took Jordan a moment to realize that they weren’t his men, and that they intended to torch the hotel—with him still in it!
In a moment Jordan realized that word of his plan had leaked out, and somebody had made plans for a counterattack.
Jordan hadn’t planned to actually participate in the fight, and he had no weapon available.
Even if he
had, the riders were coming too fast to stop them.
Chapter Twenty-one
Sam hadn’t included torching the hotel in his plans. And had anybody asked his advice, he would have told them not to do it, since Jordan would have men stationed around the building.
Too bad the two riders with the torches hadn’t asked his advice.
The two were riding fast toward the hotel, their torches held high, when the first shots were fired. The rider on the left slumped over his horse and fell to the street. His torch fell beside him and flickered in the dirt.
Sam noted where the shots had come from, and returned the fire. He heard a groan, indicating he must have hit flesh, whether he killed the other man or not.
The second rider continued on, and had a little more luck than the first rider. But it was only a little luck. He managed to toss the torch to the top of the building before he was brought down in a hale of bullets. His body was nearly torn to pieces as he fell.
Up and down the street, shots were being exchanged. Sam moved quietly down the street, staying in the shadows. He came upon two men standing by one of the buildings. They spotted him almost at the same time Sam saw them. Their guns belched flame. Sam hit the ground, heard the bullets whistle over his head. He shot upwards. One bullet barely grazed the groin of one of his attackers, making him yelp in surprise and pain. He dropped his gun and started running down the street.
Several more shots were taken at him, but they somehow missed him. He didn’t bother to shoot back. He just ran faster, until he disappeared from sight.
The second man was a little more difficult. He managed to move to one side just as Sam’s second shot was fired. That bullet harmlessly hit the building wall. The attacker got off several more shots at Sam, who continued to roll out of the line of fire. The bullets kicked up puffs of dust behind him as he moved.
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