Six Guns at Solace

by John Davage

  ‘True,’ Floyd said. ‘Seems like we’re beat.’

  ‘Meg came close to being caught up in the bank raid,’ Chester told Tom, and went on to explain about her visit to the bank and the torn dress.

  ‘Is she OK?’ Tom wanted to know.

  ‘Just a bit shaken, I reckon,’ Chester said.

  ‘I’m gonna go an’ see her,’ Tom said.

  Chester smiled. ‘Figured you would. I’ll come with you. Seems to be nothing more any of us can do here.’

  Meg had just finished changing her dress when Aunt Carrie put her head round the door. The older woman was smiling.

  ‘Tom’s here, Meg,’ she said. ‘You decent?’

  ‘Yes,’ Meg replied. Her mind still on Clay, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see Tom, afraid he would ask questions and then detect something in her manner.

  ‘Then I’ll tell him to come through.’

  ‘It . . . it’s all right, I’ll come out.’ Perhaps it would be easier not to see him alone, she thought.

  Tom and her uncle were discussing the bank raid but stopped abruptly as she came through from her room. Tom saw her at that moment and hurried across to put an arm round her.

  ‘You all right? Chester said you tore your dress outside the bank.’

  ‘Y . . . yes,’ Meg said. ‘I tripped and fell against the hitching rail outside. There must have been a nail . . . anyway, it was too badly torn to go on, I had to come back.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Tom said, putting an arm round her shoulder. ‘Those varmints could’ve shot you, the way they did Howie and Mr Makin.’

  ‘Th. . .they’re both dead?’ Meg’s voice was barely a whisper.

  Tom nodded. ‘You must’ve seen the gang’s horses, if the men were still inside when you fell against the hitchin’ rail. They would’ve been tied up there. Was there anythin’ special about any of them? Somethin’ that could help identify the rider?’

  ‘N . . . no,’ Meg said. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Could you hear anythin’ of what was happenin’ inside?’

  ‘No, nothing,’ Meg said. ‘Not . . . not until I was more than halfway back across the street, then I heard some shots.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘OK,’ Tom said. He frowned. ‘Are you all right? You seem . . . worried about somethin’.’

  ‘I’m fine, Tom,’ Meg said quickly, forcing herself to smile. ‘It’s just all a bit of a shock, Howie and Mr Makin getting killed like that.’

  ‘Why did the varmints have to do that?’ Carrie said. ‘Makes no sense.’

  ‘We reckon Arthur Makin recognized one or more of them, even though they were masked, an’ he was foolish enough to let ’em know that,’ Tom explained.

  Carrie nodded. ‘That would be a mistake.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harvey Garrod left Solace before first light the next morning and arrived in Weslake six hours later – mid-morning.

  Harvey was angry. Angry because Nate Morgan had robbed him and knocked him out and taken his money, when all the man was supposed to have done was tie him up and pretend to take the hotel cash; and angry because Pike or one of his men had deemed it necessary to kill the bank manager and the teller. None of that had been part of the plan as Harvey had understood it when he had made the deal with Eli Pike.

  Worse still, Sheriff Wickes was already half convinced it was the Pike gang who had been responsible for the robbery, thanks to Arthur Makin living long enough to point the finger at them. And now the chances were that Floyd or that over-eager young deputy would take it into their heads to try and do something about it, maybe start ferreting around for answers. Even discover Harvey’s complicity in the crimes.

  Jesus, it was a mess!

  Which was why Harvey was now in Weslake, where he learned from the hotel clerk when he booked a room for the night that the Pike gang’s hangout was a derelict ranch called the Lazy O, some two hours’ buggy ride north of the town.

  ‘Not that I’d recommend you going out there, unless you’ve got a really good reason,’ the hotel clerk had said. ‘They’re a tough bunch, and they don’t make visitors welcome.’

  ‘Can’t be helped,’ Harvey had said.

  In fact, there were two urgent reasons why he had to find Eli Pike before young Tom Walsh or Sheriff Wickes were able to confront the outlaw. One, he had to warn Eli about Makin’s last words, and two, he had to get his daughter out of the gang’s clutches.

  He rode out of town, taking the main trail. Had he known there was a shorter route – an old Indian trail – he would have met Eli Pike coming into town and things might have turned out differently.

  Back in Solace, Tom was sitting on the corner of Floyd’s desk looking thoughtful. ‘Mind you, Pike an’ his men don’t know that Arthur Makin might have named ’em before he died, do they?’ he said. ‘It’s my bet whichever of ’em shot Mr Makin assumed they’d killed him outright.’

  Floyd frowned. ‘It’s possible. What you gettin’ at, Tom?’

  ‘Well, just supposin’ I was to go to Weslake first thing tomorrow – where everybody reckons the Pikes hang out from time to time – an’ make folks, includin’ the sheriff, believe that we have a live witness to the killin’ of Howie an’ Mr Makin, an’ the robbin’ of the bank. A witness who’s willin’ to name the Pikes as the guilty ones. Name ’em to the marshal or a circuit judge. Maybe then word will get back to the Pikes an’ it’ll scare Eli Pike or one of the others into comin’ back to Solace to finish the job. An’ we’ll have them in our jurisdiction!’

  ‘An’ maybe you’ll get yourself killed first off, Tom. The Pikes are jus’ as likely to put a bullet in your back before comin’ back here. Back-shootin’s their style.’

  ‘Then I’ll jus’ have to be careful,’ Tom said.

  ‘If anybody was to go, it should be me,’ Floyd said.

  ‘Aw, come on, Floyd!’ Tom said. ‘Give me a break. Let me do somethin’ off my own bat for once.’

  Floyd sighed. ‘I jus’ don’t want you to go gettin’ yourself killed. Good deputies ain’t easy to find!’

  Tom grinned. ‘Nice to know I’m useful. Reckon I’ll tell Meg what a rarity I am when I see her later.’

  ‘Get out of here!’ Floyd told him, laughing.

  ‘They just didn’t reckon on Mr Makin survivin’ long enough to tell the doc anythin’, so this might work.’ Tom was telling his plan to Meg and the Greens that evening. ‘Anyway, I plan to go to Weslake in the mornin’, leave a coupl’a hours after sun-up. Weslake’s where the Pikes sometimes hang out,’ he explained.

  ‘Oh, no, Tom!’ Meg pleaded. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘And to what purpose?’ Carrie Green put in. ‘Weslake’s outside your jurisdiction and the Pikes are never going to admit it was them who robbed our bank, not now there really are no live . . . witnesses.’ She glanced across at Meg.

  Meg looked away, feeling her face getting hot.

  She knows I’ve not told the truth.

  ‘They can’t be sure of that,’ Tom said. ‘An’ I’m gonna let ’em believe either Howie or Mr Makin ain’t dead, hopin’ that’ll scare ’em into doin’ or sayin’ somethin’ stupid, somethin’ incriminatin’. Better still, scare ’em into comin’ back to Solace to finish the job, then Floyd an’ me will have ’em.’ He looked at Meg. ‘Listen, I can’t just sit back an’ do nothin’, Meg. Howie was a good friend of mine, an’ I aim to get the man who killed him.’

  And that man was Clay, thought Meg. My own brother.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eli Pike was talking with Abe Lucre, Weslake’s undertaker, arranging to have Silas buried the next day. Sheriff Cord Lewis hovered nearby.

  ‘Just leave everythin’ to me, Mr Pike,’ Abe said.

  The story Eli was telling everybody was that Silas had been killed by a stray bullet from a renegade bunch of Indians who had ambushed him at Checker Pass. The mortician didn’t believe a word of it, and n
either did Cord Lewis, but they pretended to swallow the tale. It never paid to argue with Eli Pike.

  ‘You’re sure gonna miss your brother, Eli,’ Cord said. ‘Indians, eh?’

  ‘Yeah, Indians,’ Eli repeated. He didn’t care whether they believed him or not.

  ‘Well, don’t you worry,’ Abe assured him. ‘Silas’ll get a good send-off.’

  After leaving the undertakers, Eli headed to the saloon. Cord Lewis made as if to join him, but Eli waved him away.

  ‘Not now, Cord.’

  ‘Oh, sure, Eli.’ The sheriff headed back to his office, wondering how Silas Pike had really got himself killed. Some hold-up was his best guess.

  Eli spent the next two hours sitting alone and drinking, still puzzled and enraged at the way a well-planned bank raid could have gone so badly wrong.

  When he finally got back to the ranch, it was late evening. He was surprised to find Harvey Garrod waiting for him, and even more surprised to see Becky standing with her father.

  ‘So the cat’s out of the bag,’ he said, looking at Becky. ‘Now you know about the arrangement between your pa an’ me.’

  Becky nodded, a mixture of fear and hope etched on her face. ‘An’ I want to go home with him,’ she said. ‘Please, Eli!’

  ‘Shut up!’ Eli yelled at her. ‘Nobody’s goin’ anywhere!’

  Harvey put an arm round his daughter’s shoulders. ‘Her release in exchange for getting the sheriff, the deputy and half the town out of Solace before the bank raid,’ he said. ‘That was the deal, Pike, and I kept my end of it.’

  Nate, Ray and Clay were sitting around the room, which, Eli guessed, was the only reason Garrod hadn’t taken his daughter and gone. They would have stopped him. The saddle-bags, still unpacked and bulky with the cash from the bank, had been slung into the corner of the room the night before. Somehow, none of them had had the inclination to count up the booty until today. And even then, Ray, Clay and Nate had decided to await Eli’s return from the undertaker’s in Weslake before opening the saddle-bags. It was an unspoken rule that they never divided up the spoils from any robbery without Eli being present.

  ‘You’re damn prompt, Garrod!’ Eli said now, his voice thick with the effects of alcohol and fatigue. It had been a long twenty-four hours, in which things had gone sour and he had lost a brother. He was in no mood for arguing. ‘An’ how did you know you’d find me here?’

  ‘I asked around in Weslake,’ Harvey said.

  Eli nodded. ‘Guessed so. Folks are gettin’ too damn talkative in that town. Were you reckonin’ on takin’ missy with you tonight? ’Cause if you were, you can forget it.’

  ‘But you promised! You gave me your word!’ The desperation in Harvey’s voice was palpable. ‘That was the arrangement and . . .’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind.’ Eli glanced at the others. ‘We’re buryin’ Silas tomorrow. Then we start packin’ up. We’re gettin’ out of here.’ He looked back at Garrod. ‘Becky’s comin’ with us.’

  There was a sharp gasp from the girl as her father drew her closer to him. ‘No!’ he said. ‘I won’t have that!’

  ‘Please, Eli!’ Becky pleaded.

  ‘It ain’t up for discussion,’ Eli said.

  He nodded at Nate and Ray and the two men moved across the room and prised Becky away from her father. She screamed and Harvey tried to put up a fight, but Ray hit him across the mouth, then twice into the soft flesh of his belly, leaving him doubled over and gasping for breath.

  ‘Take the girl upstairs,’ Eli ordered Nate.

  ‘Pa!’ Becky screamed, as Nate dragged her towards the stairwell.

  Eli looked across at Clay. ‘Put Mr Garrod in his buggy an’ send him on his way, kid. Any trouble, kill him.’

  Clay, who had been watching Becky with a sick feeling in his gut, nodded, took his .45 from his holster and pushed the older man outside to the echoes of his daughter’s screams. Garrod was distraught, taking gulps of breath and clutching his stomach.

  When they were some yards from the house, Clay made a decision. He lowered his voice and said, ‘Don’t worry about Becky. I’ll see she’s OK. I aim to get away an’ take her with me.’

  Harvey stared at him at him in astonishment. When he found his voice, it was more with disgust than appreciation that he said, ‘So that she can spend the rest of her life with you – a gunslinger? Never! I want her home with me.’ He climbed into his buggy, trying to reclaim some of his dignity. ‘This isn’t over. I’m getting help, even if I do have to own up to my part in the hotel robbery and the bank raid.’

  Clay watched Harvey Garrod drive away from the Lazy O as a cloud passed across the face of the moon. Then he turned to see Ray standing just a few yards behind him.

  Had the other man overheard him speaking to Garrod?

  ‘Get your horse an’ come with me, kid,’ Ray said. ‘There’s a bit of clearin’ up to do, especially after what Garrod just said. Can’t have him shootin’ his mouth off.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Clay asked, although he had already guessed.

  Ray nodded towards Harvey Garrod’s retreating back. ‘We’re goin’ after him, before he can cause any more trouble. He knows too much and Eli wants him dead. We’ll take the Indian trail an’ cut him off at Checker Pass. We can be there a good fifteen minutes ahead of him. Come on, before he gets too much of a head start.’

  ‘Wh . . . why d’you need me?’ Clay said. The last thing he wanted was any part in killing Becky’s father. ‘It don’t take two to. . . .’

  ‘We’ve got some talkin’ to do,’ Ray cut in. ‘Remember?’

  Clay swallowed. ‘OK.’

  They took the old Indian trail, riding fast, their horses kicking up the dirt. The moon cut shafts of light between the trees. Questions about how much Ray knew whirled in Clay’s head, but neither man spoke on the journey.

  Fifteen minutes later they emerged from a stand of pine trees on to a long, high ridge, finally drawing their horses to a halt behind a formation of boulders. The animals were breathing heavily.

  Clay tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had killed two more men since that first catastrophic accident in the saloon at Adam’s Creek, and now he was going be a witness to another slaying.

  Well, whatever happened afterwards, he had come to a decision. He was finished with Eli and the others. When they left the next day, he wouldn’t be going with them. He’d had enough. It was time to do something about his life. Maybe there was some way that he and his sister could. . . .

  ‘What’s on your mind, kid?’ Ray said, interrupting Clay’s musings.

  ‘You didn’t need me to come with you,’ Clay said. ‘Didn’t Eli ask why you were takin’ me?’

  ‘I told him I was takin’ you for back-up,’ Ray told him.

  ‘Did he believe you?’

  Ray shrugged. ‘Who knows? You can never tell with Eli. He didn’t argue. He just wants Garrod out of the way.’

  ‘Eli double-crossed him,’ Clay said.

  Ray shrugged. ‘That’s about it.’

  They were silent for some moments, then Clay said, ‘So what did you want to talk to me about? Why did you bring me? It doesn’t need two of us.’

  ‘I know that you killed Silas,’ Ray said.

  Clay stared at him. ‘How . . . how d’you know?’

  ‘The bank teller’s six-gun,’ Ray said. ‘I picked it up afore we left. It was cold an’ fully loaded. He didn’t kill Silas.’ He stared at Clay: ‘It was you, wasn’t it, kid?’

  Clay nodded after a moment. ‘Yeah, but I had to do it. I had no choice.’

  ‘What ’xactly happened? Somethin’ to do with that female scream I heard, the one you tried to pass off as havin’ come from the bank teller? Horseshit!’

  ‘It . . . it was my sister who screamed,’ Clay admitted. ‘She came into the bank while you an’ Eli were with the bank manager, gettin’ the money from the safe.’

  ‘Your sister?’

  �
��Yeah, it was a real shock, believe me. I reckon she lives in Solace now, which prob’ly means my pa is dead.’ Clay said, absently rubbing the knife scar on his forehead.

  ‘So what happened? Go on.’

  ‘Silas started pawin’ her,’ Clay said. ‘Tore her dress open an’ touched her . . . anyways I told him to quit, but he wouldn’t. So I . . . I had to kill him.’

  ‘An’ the teller?’

  ‘He drew a gun an’ I had to kill him, too, afore he killed me,’ Clay answered. ‘So then I lied an’ told Eli the teller killed Silas.’

  Ray looked thoughtful. ‘When we saw Silas’ body, his face was uncovered.’

  ‘His neckerchief slipped, yeah,’ Clay said.

  ‘So there’s a witness – your sister. A live witness who can describe him,’ Ray said. ‘Which means the Solace sheriff will show her a few law dodgers, an’ in no time he’ll know it was Eli Pike an’ his gang who robbed the local bank.’

  ‘Meg won’t say anythin’, ’cause of me,’ Clay said.

  Ray shook his head. ‘Can’t be sure of that. It’s too much of a risk. Eli will want her dead afore she gets a chance to tell some marshal or testify to a circuit judge. I’ll have to tell Eli.’

  ‘No! You can’t tell him!’ Panic flooded through Clay like a tidal wave.

  The other man shrugged. ‘I have to . . .’ He stopped abruptly at the sound of an approaching horse and buggy. ‘He’s comin’,’ he said.

  There was enough light for them to see the main trail as the buggy moved towards them at a canter, Harvey Garrod’s rotund figure silhouetted by the moonlight as it drew nearer.

  Ray, sitting astride his horse, lifted his Winchester and took aim. But luck was on the hotel owner’s side. At the moment Ray fired, Garrod’s horse swerved to avoid a pothole, and the bullet missed the hotelier by inches.

  Ray swore.

  The sound of the shot also spooked the horse, which reared up, bucking the buggy so that Harvey was thrown out.

  Ray leapt from his own horse and half ran, half slithered down the slope towards the buggy.