My Father's World

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My Father's World Page 22

by Michael Phillips

“Nah,” he answered, sounding regretful that Buck was still out there. “I couldn’t find him nowhere. But when I do, I’ll kill him.”

  “But that won’t help anything, Pa,” I said. “It’ll only get you into trouble.”

  It was probably impudent of me to say such a thing, but I could remember Ma saying the exact words to Zack when he wanted to get back at a bully in school. And her admonition had kept Zack from a needless fight, because it made him stop and realize that it would do more harm than good. Though they didn’t seem to have the same effect on Pa coming from my mouth as they did when Ma said the words to Zack.

  “The trouble I’m in,” he mused, almost talking to himself, “I got in long ago. I thought I’d managed to run away from it, turning my back on my family in the process. But now it looks like the trouble’s found me out in the end.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “But don’t you worry none, Corrie,” he said. “I won’t do nothin’ foolhardy. Just remember, this is the West, and what a man does for himself around here is sometimes the only justice to be had.”

  “Then maybe I should be the one to go after Buck,” I said. It was a stupid thing to say, and I don’t know why I blurted it out.

  “Don’t talk foolishness, girl.”

  “But it was me he attacked, not you.”

  “Doing justice is a man’s job. And since I’m your pa, it’s my responsibility.”

  “I’d rather you just let it go.”

  “Well, you don’t know the whole story,” he added, without offering to tell it.

  “Tell me about it, Pa,” I pleaded.

  “I can’t now. Maybe the time will come . . . I don’t know.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Pa.”

  “Don’t worry. Nothin’s going to happen to me.”

  But just hearing him say the words made me more and more worried.

  “Now get yourself inside. It’s gettin’ late. Time for the little ones to be in bed.”

  I went back inside, a little reassured, but anxious about Pa.

  Later that night, I lay awake in bed unable to sleep. The events of the day still churned in my mind. I hadn’t said much at all to Uncle Nick about the incident. But as I lay there, I could hear his and Pa’s voices in the other room. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but at the mention of Buck’s name, my ears perked up, and I sat up straining to listen.

  “ . . . I still can’t believe it could be Buck Krebbs,” Uncle Nick was saying.

  “Believe it,” replied Pa. “You heard what the kids said before—the scar on his face, now this thing with Corrie.”

  “But if it was Buck, and he was prowling around our place, why would he tell her his name? He’d have to know she’d tell us, and then we’d be onto him.”

  “None of that Gulch bunch was overloaded with brains, Nick,” said Pa. “And Buck was the biggest dimwit of them all.”

  “You think he’s looking for the loot?”

  “What else?”

  “So, did you get any lead on him?”

  “Nah. Everybody’s tight-lipped.”

  “Some of the boys say Royce has brought in some out-of-town lowlifes.”

  “What for?”

  “No one knows.”

  “I never did trust that shyster,” muttered Pa.

  “You think the others are here too?”

  “Aw, who can tell?”

  Just the sound of Pa’s boot kicking at the fire told me that he was standing in front of the hearth, no doubt with his hand resting on a hook in the large wooden beam just over his head. That’s where he always stood when he was thinking, staring down into the fire’s red-hot embers.

  “Even if he did follow Aggie and the kids, I can’t imagine Buck making it all the way out here alone.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you think that if ol’ Buck saw a chance to grab the money on his own and high-tail it to Mexico or someplace, he’d as soon double cross the others as put a slug in either of us?”

  “Yeah, you got a point there,” said Pa.

  The two were silent again, and before I heard another word, I was sound asleep.

  Chapter 35

  Overheard Conversation

  Late in January, we finally got some snow. It was nothing like what we had in New York, but on the distant hills it was heavy, with scattered patches in the valley. Actually, it made a lovely picture—the pure white mounds broken by the rich red earth, evergreens standing tall and fresh all around our claim, the stream winding its way down the hill, and a slate of blue sky overhead.

  The weather wasn’t bothering the mining too much. The shaft was pretty big now and they were concentrating their blasting in a drift which would be an offshoot from the main tunnel. They were working hard, but hadn’t hit any pay dirt yet.

  Quartz mining with only two or three men wasn’t done too often. Hauling up the big chunks of rock was back-breaking for one man, and usually only the bigger operations could afford carts to go in and out of the mine, and a stamp mill to smash and crush the rock to get the gold out. But Pa and Uncle Nick were determined. They tried all sorts of things to separate the ore more efficiently, but so far they hadn’t found much.

  Then yesterday the three of them spent a lot of time talking about trying to put together what they called a chili mill. Mr. Jones said he knew some Mexicans who could help them get one going and who knew all about the operation.

  So this morning Pa and Uncle Nick headed into Miracle Springs again, this time for more lumber, rope, and cable. Pa was saying something about the millstones, but I couldn’t tell if he was going to get them or if Mr. Jones was going to go down to Grass Valley for them.

  Pa looked worn and haggard when they left. I remember thinking that I hoped something would happen soon, for his sake. After all they’d been through, and with the added burden of us kids, I was afraid if they didn’t find some gold before long, he might quit, or take to gambling again.

  After the sounds of the wagon died away, and the breakfast dishes had been cleaned up, I decided to go for a walk. I told Zack to keep a close eye on the kids.

  “Aw, Corrie, you know I don’t like to stay in the cabin playin’ ma.”

  “I won’t be gone that long,” I insisted. “You don’t have to stay in the cabin. Just keep an eye out for them, that’s all.”

  “But I was gonna go up and work at the mine.”

  “Did Pa give you permission?”

  “Well, not exactly.”

  “I didn’t think so. You stay away from that mine,” I said firmly. “And you keep Tad in sight. He’s been dying to get up there, and you know what Pa said. Keep him close by the cabin.”

  Zack just shrugged his shoulders, then asked, “What if that man comes back?”

  “He won’t,” I answered. “We haven’t seen any strangers for a month, and Pa says that fellow’s long gone by now. But if you hear somebody you don’t know, just bolt yourselves inside. I won’t be that long.”

  As I left the cabin, I thought that if I found a good drift of snow I would go back and get the kids so they could play in it. But I didn’t want to say anything, otherwise I’d never get my walk alone. As I walked, I couldn’t get Zack’s words out of my mind. Maybe Pa had only said what he had about Buck to keep us from worrying. I knew that man had to be still on his mind, because this was the first time all month he had left us alone, even for a minute.

  The day was so lovely that it was easy to push my nagging doubts aside. I was determined to enjoy myself. The air was clean and crisp, and I didn’t mind that the cold penetrated even my warmest New York coat. The snow was starting to melt in places, but there was still plenty everywhere. I walked north at first, then east toward some snow-covered hills. I warmed up quickly under the hazy winter sun.

  After about half a mile, I reached a steep ridge. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to climb it with all the snow, but I’d been there before, and I knew that from the top was a spectacular view of the
lowlands.

  Slipping and sliding, I finally made it to the crest, and the sight today was even more beautiful than usual. I felt like a fairy princess surveying the realm of her winter wonderland. Ma was always so practical. She would probably scold me good-naturedly for my fanciful notions, and tell me not to let my imagination run loose. But I figured that as long as I could be practical when I had to be, it was okay to daydream sometimes. I expect even Ma would have allowed me that much.

  I could have stayed there for hours taking in the view, but my practical side started to awaken and tell me I should be getting back. Just before beginning my descent I noticed something I hadn’t seen before.

  Way down below I could see the road into town. I’d never realized it came so close to this ridge, winding in a great half-circle around the hill. I think the whiteness of the snow made the dark dirt road more visible.

  This would surely be a short-cut, I thought, to the claim. Or—and I shivered with the thought—a way to sneak up around to the back of the mine like that dreadful man must have done, without anyone detecting him on the road that passed our cabin.

  Even as I stood staring at the road, in the distance a horse-drawn wagon came into faint view. At first I thought it must be Pa on his way home.

  I scrambled down from my perch to descend the hill on that side, thinking to meet Pa on the road, forgetting for a minute that he could not possibly be returning so soon.

  By the time I’d made three-fourths of the descent, I could see that the wagon was too small and too fancy to be Pa’s. But I hardly had time to think further, for all at once a rider on horseback came into view. I hadn’t seen his approach. There was an exchange between him and the buggy driver, who then snapped his reins and drove off the road under the cover of some trees. They were heading right toward me.

  My heart nearly stopped! The man on horseback followed, and it was none other than Buck Krebbs! All I could think of was getting away as fast as I could. But they surely would have seen me! So I crouched down in the brush, praying they wouldn’t see me and would go on by. But they stopped where they were, and I was stuck.

  I held my breath, not moving a muscle. Even with my heart pounding in my ears, I found myself straining to hear what they were saying. In the still, crisp air, I recognized the buggy driver’s voice, but couldn’t place it. His back was turned to me.

  “Well, Krebbs,” he said, “I hope you don’t botch the job this time.”

  “Now look here!” he snapped back, “I couldn’t help it if that blame fool girl showed up afore I could git it done.”

  “If a little girl’s going to keep you from—”

  “She wouldn’ve kept me from nuthin’! I coulda handled her just fine! But then that crazed Injun attacked me!”

  “There are men I could hire who wouldn’t be afraid of a lone Indian—a mere boy, I understand.”

  “It was his arrows that coulda killed me as dead as the next guy! You ever seen one a them sharpshooters?”

  “No—no, can’t say that I have, Krebbs, but—”

  “You couldn’t hire a local who’d keep as quiet about your dirty work better’n ole Buck, an’ you know it! ’Sides, I took care o’ Larsen’s place, didn’t I?”

  “Well, I just hope you can do as well with Matthews’.”

  My mind was reeling as I listened, trying to remember where I’d heard the name Larsen before, but the instant I recalled, the man’s next words made everything become clearer.

  “ . . . I want their place burned to the ground come sunup tomorrow. You got that, Krebbs?”

  “Got it.”

  “Luckily, my scheme may not hinge entirely on your part.”

  “Whaddya mean by that? I risked my neck to come back here in broad daylight!”

  “I’m paying you well enough.”

  “No more’n the job’s worth. Don’t forget, I rode with Matthews back in ’43. ’Course that weren’t his name then! I seen him in action. That’s why when his six-gun comes out, I intend t’ be behind him, not in front o’ him!”

  “I don’t care about your personal vendetta against the man, Mr. Krebbs, just so long as you do what I’m paying you for. Whatever else you hope to get out of it, that’s your own business.”

  “I got my reasons,” muttered Buck, “I’ll get the job done.”

  “In any case, you won’t have Matthews to worry about for long, or that partner of his either for that matter.” The icy voice made me shiver, but I just couldn’t place it. Suddenly I was colder than ever, and it wasn’t from the snow.

  “Now, just you wait a minute! If you’re plannin’ to kill ’em, you just hold onto your hat. They ain’t no good to me dead!”

  “Relax. I’ll let you have the honor. All I want is them outta the way. After that, they’re all yours. And when I show Matthews what I got, with his cabin nothin’ but ashes and his mine caved in, he’ll clear out faster’n them kids can hang onto his coattails. Even that stone-faced partner of his, Drum, won’t be able to talk his way out of this one!”

  “Whatcha got?”

  “None of your business!” came the curt reply. There was a brief pause, then apparently thinking Buck deserved to know at least a portion of his plot, he went on, “Let’s just call it a little insurance policy I discovered very recently.” And shaking his head, “To think that I’ve had it all along.”

  As he spoke, he pulled out a piece of paper and waved it in the air.

  “What’s a little piece o’ paper gonna do to men like Matthews and Drum?”

  “Even a man like Nick Matthews has to abide by the law, Mr. Krebbs. And this little piece of paper, as you call it, gives me immediate legal right to his entire property unless he can come up with $150 in cash.”

  “So why do ya want me to burn him out?”

  “Call it double insurance. Matthews is so hot-headed, he would probably try to shoot his way out of this. But if I know that Drum fellow, he’ll no doubt think there is some way around this IOU, and I would rather not have to fight him in some Sacramento court. There’s something about that man I just don’t like. He’s too cool for me. I think he’s hiding something.”

  “He’s hidin’ plenty! I can tell you that! Ya know them kids—”

  “I don’t care about the kids, Krebbs!” the driver interrupted. “I don’t care what name they used to go by. I don’t care what your devious scheme may be regarding them. All I want to make sure of is that your little act of sabotage convinces both of them of the folly of trying to resist.”

  “Just so long as you know I ain’t settin’ a torch to the place ’til I’ve gone over every inch o’ it.”

  “Just do the job, Krebbs.”

  “And I’m warnin’ you now, don’t git no crazy thoughts o’ tryin’ to git out o’ payin’ me for your dirty work!”

  “You’ll get your money. I paid you for the other jobs.”

  Then like a flash, Buck drew his gun and waved it in the driver’s face.

  “You’ll bring the money to that deserted shack on the ol’ Smith claim in one hour,” he said in a threatening tone, “or you’ll be spending the rest of a very short life lookin’ over your shoulder. And you can ask the fellow who calls himself Drum how long I stay on a man’s trail who double-crosses me! Why, he ain’t no more a Drum than Nick is a Matthews! You understand me? You cross me and I’ll track you down no matter where you go or how many times you change your name!”

  “This is what comes of doing business with lowlifes,” the driver said with disgust in his voice.

  “One hour! Or I’ll be after you!”

  With that, Mr. Krebbs swung into his saddle and was gone. The other man remained a moment longer, still shaking his head. Then he walked back to his buggy, got in, and went back the way he had come.

  I let out a huge sigh of relief, and waited till both men were well out of sight. My first thought was to warn Uncle Nick and Pa. If I followed the men into town from here, I might be able to get there in less than the hour it w
ould take them to do whatever they were going to do at the Smith place.

  But what if the man confronted Uncle Nick before going to pay Krebbs his money? What if he forced Uncle Nick to surrender the claim like he said he could?

  I just had to get to either Pa or Uncle Nick before he did. I started toward the road, while I thought through a plan.

  Then all of a sudden, I stopped short in my tracks. Another idea suddenly occurred to me. I spun around and hurried back the way I’d come down the hill. I had to go to the cabin first, even if it delayed everything!

  Ten minutes later, I burst through the door, breathless and sweaty. I headed for the bedroom without a word.

  “Where you been so long, Corrie,” Zack moaned, “You said you’d only be gone a short time!”

  “Zack,” I said when I came back to the front room, “I’m sorry, but I can’t even stay. I’ve got to go to town!”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “There’s no time to explain. Now listen, if you see or hear anyone hanging around outside, take one of Pa’s guns and get you and the kids out into the woods, but not too far from the cabin, so you can keep a watch on it.”

  “I thought you said to keep them inside.”

  “Never mind that. I’ve just overheard two men talking about burning down the cabin!”

  Zack’s face was clouded with fear. The younger ones were too bewildered make a peep.

  “Corrie, please don’t leave us here—alone,” he begged.

  “I have to, Zack! There’s no choice. I don’t think they plan to do it ’til tonight, and by then Pa’ll be back. But I had to tell you, just in case, so you watch careful, and keep that gun at the ready.”

  I paused to looked deep into his eyes. I still saw the fear. But he knew I was trusting him with a man’s job, and in spite of being afraid, I think he was proud. In that instant, with the lives of our younger brothers and sisters depending on us, I think both Zack and I took several big steps toward growing up.

  I hugged him impulsively. “I love you, Zack. You pray for me, and I’ll pray for you. The Lord will be with us.”

  Then I turned and ran out the door before I lost my courage.

 

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