The next morning, after a substantial breakfast, Wes set off from the frost-dusted valley with Old Charlie, heading for the claim where his uncle had died and was buried.
The place proved to be much closer to the cabin where he had spent the night than Wes had envisaged. Once they had made their way through the narrow defile and Old Charlie had reconnoitred the immediate vicinity to ensure no one was around to see them emerge, they rode for no more than forty minutes before arriving at the more accessible and smaller mountain hollow that was the last resting place of Cornishman Peter Rowse.
They were met by a cautious man who had obviously been panning in the stream which ran through the small valley. He had run into a small and ramshackle cabin when he heard their approach and now emerged pointing a shotgun menacingly in their direction.
Recognizing Old Charlie, his relief was apparent and he greeted the old mountain-man warmly, saying, ‘It’s good to see you again, Charlie. I haven’t spoken to a soul since I last saw you, and when I heard you coming I was afraid it might be some of the Denton gang returning.’
‘If they were to come back now you couldn’t have anyone better than the young man I’ve brought to meet you, Daniel. This here’s Wesley Curnow. He shot and killed two of the Denton brothers in Lauraville, when they were trying to make the sheriff dance to the tune of a six-gun. He also happens to be the nephew of your late partner, Peter Rowse … Wes, meet Daniel Pike.’
Grasping Wes’s hand, the prospector said sorrowfully, ‘I’m sorry your uncle isn’t alive to greet you, Wesley, there was hardly a day passed when he didn’t wonder whether it was going to be the day you’d arrive from the Cornwall he hoped one day to return to as a rich man. He thought a whole lot of you.’
‘And I of him,’ Wes replied, ‘but … where is he buried?’
Pointing to where three primitive crosses stood sentinel over three small mounds of earth rising above the grass at the foot of a tall bluff, Pike said, ‘Charlie made your uncle’s cross, I did the same for the other two.’
Wes walked over to the three graves and was moved by the care Old Charlie had taken in carving his uncle’s name on the horizontal bar of the cross marking his grave.
Dropping to his knees beside it, he tried to remember the words of some of the prayers that had been said at funerals of his mother and father and victims of mine disasters, but could think of nothing that suited either the manner of his uncle’s death, or the place where he had been wounded and left to die. Eventually, he simply clasped his hands together and mumbled all the prayers he could remember them reciting together in the Wesleyan chapel on the edge of Bodmin Moor.
Rising to his feet when he had done, he saw Old Charlie and Daniel Pike poring over the papers he had given to the mountain-man.
Throwing Wes a sympathetic glance, Pike said, ‘Do you feel easier in your mind now you’ve been able to visit Peter’s grave?’
‘I’d feel a whole lot better if I knew his killers were going to be caught,’ he replied.
‘There’s little chance of that,’ the prospector said, ‘You’d never learn which of the gang did it … Not that it makes any difference, they’re all as bad as one another. There’s not one of them that doesn’t have at least one murder to his name. I’d say you’ve already done enough to avenge Peter – but that reminds me, I’ve a few of his things here, though they’re mainly clothes, the Denton’s made off with anything of value.’
‘You keep any that you might be able to use,’ Wes said, ‘but are you going to stay up here after what’s happened?’
‘I had half a mind to move on,’ Pike said, ‘but Charlie says he’ll come and help me to work the claim, going back to his own place each night. I’ll get me a dog to keep me company at night and warn me if anyone comes around … but that reminds me, there’s money in the bank down at Central. A quarter of it was Peter’s, but it’s yours now. Do you have a bank I can put it in for you when I go down to Central and have the money belonging to the others sent on to their families?’
‘Not at the moment,’ Wes replied, ‘but next time you go there, draw out whatever you think was due to Uncle Peter and Charlie can bring it to Denver next time he comes there.’
‘Do you reckon you’ll be staying in Denver long enough for me to get it to you?’ Old Charlie asked.
‘I don’t plan moving on just yet, Charlie, so I guess the answer is “yes”.’
‘There’s no accounting for taste,’ Old Charlie said, sarcastically, ‘but Denver’s quieter than some of the mining camps up this way.’
‘Talking of mining …’ Wes addressed Daniel Pike, ‘What are they taking out of the ground around here? I wouldn’t have thought there was enough gold to make it worth the expense of working a deep, hard-rock mine just for that.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Pike replied, ‘Just lately they’ve been making the most of whatever comes out of the ground but there seems to be far more silver than they realized was in the ground.’
‘I thought that might be so,’ Wes said, ‘I was looking at some of the waste taken out of your claim here. If you ever decide you’ve taken out all the gold there is to be had you might be able to interest one of the big companies in buying you out.’
‘That might be good news for the future,’ Old Charlie said, ‘but when we’ve taken out all the gold that’s here I hope Daniel will have enough money to do everything he wants and can go away and forget all about the claim. I’ve found a place that will keep me happy for the few years I’ve got left. I don’t want to share it with no clattering mine and a whole bunch of noisy, quarrelling miners. Remember that, Daniel, when the gold runs out.’
CHAPTER 15
Accompanied by Old Charlie, Wes left the hidden mountain valley before dawn the day after visiting the grave of his murdered uncle. It was a cold, crisp morning and Wes was glad to be wearing a heavy coat.
The two men rode in single file until they left the narrow, shelf-like mountainside path behind. By this time it was light enough to see the land about them. Dropping back to ride alongside Wes, Old Charlie pointed to three jagged peaks rising above the mountain ridge far to the right of the path they were on.
The sun was not yet high enough to be seen, but its rays had reached the three peaks, painting their mantles of snow a vivid red that was so bright no artist would have dared depict it on a canvas for fear of being ridiculed.
‘Have you ever seen anything like that, boy?’ The old mountain-man demanded.
When Wes admitted he had not, Old Charlie said, ‘That’s what I see most every morning when I open my door and walk outside. What’s more, I can stand and admire it for as long as I please without having some damn fool making a noise, or grumbling about the cold, or some such. It’s why I’m a mountain-man, boy, and why I’ll never be as happy anywhere else.’
‘The Rockies are truly awesome, Charlie,’ Wes agreed, ‘but it would be a hard life for a woman – and a lonely one, too.’
Wes had learned during his time with Old Charlie that spitting out tobacco juice was his way of expressing disapproval of something he had seen or heard. He showed his irritation at Wes’s words now.
‘Like I’ve said before, there’s a whole lot more to life than having fancy things in a home and having to share the breath of thousands of other folk. I know where I’d want to be, even if I was unfortunate enough to be a woman.’
Wes was inclined to agree with Old Charlie’s sentiments when they approached a large but impermanent mining town lower down on the slopes of the Rockies. Wes could smell it when they were still a mile away. It was the aroma of industry, habitation and poor sanitation. A town that had far outgrown its primitive amenities.
As they drew nearer the stench became so bad that Wes baulked at even entering the town and he told Old Charlie he intended bypassing it with as much speed as possible, and so the two men parted company.
The road to Denver was well marked from here but despite Old Charlie’s aversion to most forms of h
uman habitation, he needed to go into the town to buy a number of items needed at the mountain cabin if he and Usdi were to survive the fast approaching winter.
Wes reached Denver late that evening and after putting up his horse made his way to the Thespian Club gambling saloon where Anabelita was busy dealing cards.
He thought she looked tired but when she glanced up and saw him her delighted expression caused the players at her table to swing around to learn what it was that had so clearly shattered the sangfroid manner she adopted when dealing cards.
It was another half-an-hour before she was able to arrange for a trainee croupier to deal in her place for a few minutes and take Wes to the croupiers’ rest room. Here she could greet him away from the gaze of the Thespian Club’s gamblers.
‘I didn’t expect you back so soon,’ she said breathlessly, breaking away from his enthusiastic embrace. ‘When I told Aaron you had gone off to the mountains with Old Charlie, he said he doubted whether we would see you again for weeks. It made me quite depressed.’
‘Aaron is back in Denver?’
‘That’s right, he arrived earlier today and was disappointed you weren’t here. I think he has something to tell you. I have no idea what it is … but I am glad to have you back, Wes.’
Her declaration signalled another warm hug then, suddenly apprehensive, she asked, ‘Did you see your uncle’s grave – and meet with any Cornish miners while you were up in the mountains?’
‘I saw his grave, yes, and learned that it must have been a cold-blooded killing … but I’ll tell you all about it when you finish work and we are able to talk without needing to worry about anything else. We have a lot to talk about … but where is Aaron now? I want to speak to him about what I’ve learned … is he at the house?’
‘No, he said he had some work to do at the Marshal’s office. If you see him will you tell him Vic Walsh came to the Thespian Club asking after him last night, I forgot to tell him when I spoke to him earlier. Walsh asked after you too, but I think it was really Aaron he wanted. I told him you were both out of town and likely to be away for some time. When he learns you’re both back in Denver he’ll think I was deliberately misleading him.’
‘I don’t think you need worry too much about what Walsh thinks,’ Wes said dismissively, giving Anabelita a brief moment of guilty pleasure in the belief that Wes was showing just a hint of jealousy that Walsh had been talking to her, ‘… I don’t suppose he had anything of importance to say to either of us.’
‘No, it was probably nothing more than he said to me, that he was taking a trip back East. He asked whether there was anything he could bring back for me.’
‘Is there anything you asked him to get for you?’
‘There was nothing I could think of that I wanted … but I must be getting back to my table, Rosie is new here and hasn’t been left on her own before.’
‘Of course, but try to finish early and we’ll have a long talk then … I’ve missed you.’
Anabelita flashed him a happy smile but as she turned to go a sudden thought came to Wes, ‘This trip Walsh is making … did he say when he would be leaving?’
Turning back to him, Anabelita said, ‘What day is it today … Friday? He’s catching the early train tomorrow morning.’
CHAPTER 16
Aaron was writing at his desk when Wes entered the Marshal’s office. He was pleased to see him, commenting, ‘I’m surprised to see you so soon, Wes, Anabelita said you’d gone up to the mountains with Old Charlie and she didn’t expect to see you again for a while. She told me about your uncle. I’m sorry to hear what happened to him, I know finding him meant a great deal to you.’
‘It was Old Charlie who brought me the news, he heard the shooting and when he got to the claim my uncle was still alive – but only just. He told Charlie it was the Dentons who did it. While I was in the mountains I met his partner who was lucky enough to be away when the raid happened. He said it must have been murder for the sake of it because there was nothing of value at the site.’
‘We’ll discuss the Denton’s in a minute, Wes, but what are your plans now? Anabelita said your uncle left you his claim, are you going to use it and try your luck at prospecting?’
‘I’m a miner, not a prospector, Aaron. My uncle left me a bit of money too and it will come in handy while I make up my mind about the future. I don’t fancy the sort of life my uncle was living, so I’ve given the claim to Old Charlie and after smelling the air around one of the mining camps up there in the mountains I’m not at all sure I want to go back to mining. I certainly wouldn’t even think of taking Anabelita up there.’
Showing sudden increased interest, Aaron asked, ‘If you don’t intend working the claim and are not going back to mining, what will you do?’
Wes shrugged, ‘I’ll find something, there’s no real hurry. I’ll talk it over with Anabelita before making up my mind.’
‘While we’re on the subject of life-changing moves … Senator Schuster and his son were in Kansas while I was there, but he’s no longer ex-Senator Schuster, he’s Governor Schuster of Kentucky now. Standing with the support of the President he swept the board in an election held only a couple of few weeks ago.’
‘Did the letter you wrote to the President about the way in which Harrison Schuster died influence his support for Harrison’s father?’
‘I think it might have helped,’ Aaron admitted, ‘The Governor certainly thought it did. He told me that the United States Marshal for Kentucky is retiring very soon. He said he would ask for me to be appointed if I wanted the post.’
‘It would certainly be easier than being US Marshal for the Territories,’ Wes pointed out.
‘Perhaps,’ Aaron said, enigmatically, ‘But I don’t think an ex-Union brigadier would be popular with everyone in that part of the country. Besides, President Grant sent me out here to try to bring some law to the Territories, I have no intention of letting him down. The Governor asked after you and was very impressed when I told him how you’d put the gun the Schusters gave you to good use. They had trouble with the Dentons in Kentucky soon after the War. When I mentioned that you’d been wounded in the gunfight the Governor’s son said it was a good job his sister, Emma, hadn’t heard about it, or she would have been on the next train to Lauraville. It would seem she’s very disappointed not to have heard anything from you.’
Wes gave a smile that was tinged with relief, ‘She’s a nice, warm and caring girl,’ he said, ‘Any man, myself included, would find it easy to become very fond of her, but I’m glad she didn’t know I’d been shot.’
Aaron was aware that Wes was thinking of the embarrassment her arrival would have caused, in view of Anabelita’s condition, but he had other matters he wanted to talk to Wes about.
‘While I was in Kansas I learned some very interesting information about Vic Walsh,’ he said, ‘Very interesting indeed. As you know, the Pinkerton Detective Agency has also been checking up on him and they might have uncovered the secret of where he got the money to start up as a big-time gambling entrepreneur here, in Denver. They have certainly discovered he didn’t start life as Vic Walsh – or even as Victor Walsingham, the name he used when he had a jewellers business in Chicago and was suspected of handling stolen jewellery.’
‘Are they sure all these names they’re throwing around are one and the same man?’
‘No doubt about it,’ Aaron said jubilantly, ‘I showed the Pinkertons the photograph I have of Walsh and they confirmed it.’
‘Did you learn why the Pinkertons began taking an interest in him in the first place?’ Wes asked.
‘It was because of someone that they – and we – would like to see brought to justice. It seems Walsh handled a great deal of the jewellery taken off river steamboat passengers … on behalf of a certain Ira Gottland!’
Wes’s interest quickened immediately, but Aaron had not finished talking. Leaning forward in his chair, he said, ‘I have left the best until last, Wes. As Walsh is so obvi
ously a Cornishman, the Pinkerton’s made enquiries about him in that part of the world. They came up with some very interesting information indeed … Not about Vic Walsh, or Victor Walsingham, but a Victor Waller, son of a good family from Cornwall. He was apprenticed to a jeweller in Plymouth, which I believe is just across a river from Cornwall. He did well there and became a trusted employee … until the jeweller went to London for a few days leaving Waller in charge. When he returned Waller had disappeared – and so had most of the jeweller’s stock! Rumours were rife that he’d gone to Europe … to Canada … to Australia, but then a number of the more valuable pieces began to surface right here, in America – in Chicago! The Pinkerton’s found evidence linking the jewellery to Walsingham … or Walsh … or Waller, whichever name you prefer but, of course, they could take no action on anything he had done in England.’
Wes’s mind had been working overtime while Aaron had been talking, now he said, excitedly, ‘And we know that Gottland is here in Colorado now – and tied in with the Denton gang!’
‘That’s right, and the Dentons hold up stage coaches and take jewellery from the passengers.’
‘But what does Walsh, or whatever his name is, do with the jewellery? He can’t sell it around here.’
‘He doesn’t. We know that he’s made a couple of return visits to Chicago, he obviously sells it on while he’s there.’
Something Anabelita had said suddenly hit Wes like a stone. ‘Walsh was asking Anabelita when you and I were expected back in Denver. When she told him you were expected to be away for some time he said he was going to Chicago on business.’
Now Aaron was interested. ‘When?’
‘Early tomorrow morning.’
‘That soon! He must be catching the same time train I took to Kansas. It leaves at seven o’clock. No matter, I’ll be there to have a look at what he’s taking with him.’
No Less Than the Journey Page 26