Trek of the Mountain Man

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Trek of the Mountain Man Page 8

by William W. Johnstone


  Cal stretched and yawned. “Yeah, an’ I have a feeling we better enjoy the feeling ’cause once we leave here it’s gonna mean sleeping out in the snow.”

  Pearlie jumped out of bed and began to put his clothes on. “Time to get goin’, Cal boy. I think I can hear breakfast callin’ my name.”

  Cal rolled over and covered his head with the blankets. “You go on, Pearlie. I want to catch another few winks.”

  “All right, if that’s the way you want it,” Pearlie said as he opened the door. “But remember, after today, all we’re gonna have to eat is our own cookin’.”

  That threat did it. Cal groaned and rolled over out of bed. He and Pearlie were spoiled living on the Sugarloaf. Sally Jensen was one of the best cooks in the county, and Cal and Pearlie weren’t used to trail food. Greasy fatback bacon and boiled beans just couldn’t compare to Sally’s fried chicken and mashed potatoes and corn and such.

  By the time Cal got dressed and made his way to the dining room, Pearlie already had a large pot of coffee on the table along with two mugs and ajar of sugar. He knew Cal liked his coffee sweet when he could get it that way.

  Just as Cal took his seat, the waiter they’d had the night before came out of the kitchen with a burly, fat man following him. “See?” the waiter said, pointing to Pearlie. “There’s the man who ate all that food last night. I told you he was thin as a rail.”

  The fat man, who had a half-smoked cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, just shook his head, a look of amazement on his face.

  The waiter explained, “This is our chef. After you left last night, he wouldn’t believe that the person who ate two complete dinners and two desserts didn’t weigh three hundred pounds.”

  The cook grinned and patted his more than ample stomach. “How do you do it, mister?” he asked. “If I just smell food I gain five pounds.”

  “Just lucky, I guess,” Pearlie answered, blushing a little at the unexpected attention.

  “I’ll tell you one thing,” Cal said. “It ain’t ’cause he works it off, that’s for sure.”

  The waiter, with the cook still watching over his shoulder, asked, “What will you have this morning?”

  Pearlie stroked his chin, thought for a moment, and then he said, “I’ll have half a dozen hens’ eggs, a short stack of flapjacks, and some pork sausage if you have it.”

  Cal shrugged and said, “I’ll have the same.”

  The waiter grinned and turned to the cook. “See, I told you so!”

  * * *

  While Cal and Pearlie were eating breakfast, Bill Pike and his men arrived at the outskirts of Canyon City. Pike reined in his horse and looked at the town sitting down in a small valley below them.

  “We gonna git to go into town and have a few drinks and git me some laudanum for my hand?” Rufus Gordon asked.

  Pike shook his head. “No, I don’t think there’s gonna be any drinking in town, boys. I don’t want us to draw any attention to ourselves until we know for sure where Smoke Jensen is.”

  “But Boss,” Hank Snow complained. “I ain’t had a drink since we got to Colorado. And I done forgot what it’s like to have a woman on my lap.”

  Pike glared at him. “Don’t forget who’s running this outfit, Hank, or it might be the last thing you ever forget.”

  Hank clamped his lips shut and looked down at the ground.

  “Now, I’ll stay out here with Mrs. Jensen. The rest of you can go into town and buy the supplies we need, and you can get yourselves a couple of bottles of whiskey if you want, but I don’t want you drinking it in town. Wait until we make camp tonight. And you, Rufe, if there’s a doc in town, you might wanta have him take a look at that hand. Maybe he can fix it so it don’t hurt so bad.”

  “Anything special you want us to get in the way of supplies, Boss?” Blackie Johnson asked.

  “Yeah, Blackie. Get some warm clothes and a heavy coat for Mrs. Jensen. I don’t want her freezing to death ’fore we meet up with her husband.”

  He thought for a moment, and then he added, “And you might want to pick up some heavier coats for the rest of us too. We’re gonna be going up into the mountains and it’s bound to get colder the higher we get. And pick up some more ammunition, just in case Jensen brings help with him and makes a fight of it.”

  “You think he’ll do that after you told him you’d kill his wife if he didn’t come alone?” Johnson asked, glancing worriedly at Sally.

  Pike pursed his lips. “I don’t know.” He too looked over at Sally. “What do you think, Mrs. Jensen?”

  Sally smiled. “Smoke won’t need any help to kill you men, and he probably won’t even break a sweat doing it.”

  Pike threw back his head and laughed out loud. “You think he’s that tough?” he asked Sally.

  She nodded. “You can’t imagine just how tough, but you’ll find out soon enough.” She looked over at the other men, sitting on their horses watching her and Pike talking. “And you men had better take some time to enjoy the town while you’re there, because it is liable to be the last town you visit while you’re still alive.”

  A couple of the men laughed, but the others just eyed her with worried looks on their faces. They weren’t used to anyone not showing fear when confronted by the Pike gang, most especially women.

  Pike cleared his throat. “Get on into town, boys, and get those supplies. And don’t forget, I’ll shoot any man who comes back here drunk.”

  * * *

  Cal and Pearlie had finished breakfast, and were in the general store picking out the supplies Smoke had written on his list, when a group of hard-looking men walked into the room.

  As the men spread out and began to gather supplies of their own, one of the men walked up to the store owner behind the counter and asked, “You got any women’s clothes here?”

  Cal’s face got hard and his hand moved toward the butt of his pistol, until Pearlie put a hand on his arm. “Careful,” he whispered.

  The store owner nodded. “I got some pants and shirts that oughta fit a woman, but I don’t have no fancy dresses or nothing like that.”

  “Pants and shirts will be all right,” the man said. He held out his hand about level with his shoulder. “She’s about this tall, and she’s built thin, not real heavy.”

  The store owner walked to a rack of clothes on one wall and began to pick out trousers, flannel shirts, and some long-handle underwear.

  “Oh, an’ she’s gonna need a heavy coat too,” the man added as the store owner piled the clothes in his arms.

  Pearlie motioned to Cal with his head and walked out of the store, leaving their supplies in a pile near the counter. When they got outside, he said, “That’s got to be Miss Sally he’s talking about.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” Cal said.

  “Now remember,” Pearlie said, “Smoke said not to do nothin’ to draw attention to ourselves, so don’t you go off half-cocked until Smoke gets here.”

  “But, we can’t just let ’em ride outta town without doin’ somethin’,” Cal pleaded.

  “We are gonna do something,” Pearlie answered.

  “I’m gonna follow ’em and see which way they’re headed and make sure Miss Sally’s all right.”

  “But what am I supposed to do?” Cal asked.

  Pearlie handed him the wad of cash Smoke had given them. “You get the rest of the supplies on the list and take it over to the hotel. Then, go to the livery and pick us out a packhorse to carry it on. Once I see where they’re going, I’ll come back to town and get you.”

  “And what if Smoke isn’t here by then?” Cal asked.

  “I don’t know. We’ll just have to figure something out when the time comes.”

  13

  As soon as Cal moved back toward the general store, Pearlie took off at a dead run for the hotel. He knew if he was going to follow the kidnappers up into the mountains, he needed to get prepared.

  Taking the steps two at a time, he ran up the stairs to the room he shared wi
th Cal. He grabbed his saddlebags, stuffed some extra clothes into one, and put a sack of beans, a hunk of fatback bacon wrapped in waxed paper, and a small can of Arbuckle’s coffee in the other side.

  He started to leave the room, hesitated, and went back to the dresser and picked up his Winchester rifle and an extra box of cartridges. There was no telling what he’d run into up in the High Lonesome and he wanted to make sure he had everything he might need for the journey.

  Closing the door, he again ran down the stairs and turned left out of the door toward the livery stable. He hoped the boy there had given his horse plenty of grain. He likely wouldn’t have time to stop and let it graze while he was on the trail of the outlaws.

  * * *

  Blackie Johnson stepped up to the counter at the general store, and waited patiently while the owner totaled up their purchases. While he was waiting, he noticed a young man nearby also gathering up a load of supplies. Blackie smiled and nodded to the fellow. “Looks like you’re gonna be doing some mining up in the mountains,” he said companionably.

  Cal, startled by the man’s words and somewhat surprised at the congeniality of the outlaw, nodded. “Yeah, my partner and I plan to give it a try.”

  Blackie glanced out of the window at the gray day. “Mighty poor weather to be going up in the mountains,” he said.

  Cal shrugged and inclined his head at the pile of heavy coats and other clothing on the counter in front of the man. “Looks like that’s where you’re headed too,” he said.

  Blackie nodded. “Yeah, but we’re just passing through, not planning on staying too long. We’re from Texas and it don’t get that cold down there.”

  Zeke Thompson sidled up next to Johnson and stared suspiciously at Cal. He glanced at Blackie with a frown on his face. “You gonna jaw all day or get our gear ready?”

  Blackie stared back at Thompson, not giving an inch. He didn’t like the man and made no pretense to. “I’ll pay up when the clerk has the total ready. You got a problem with that, Zeke?” he asked, standing nose-to-nose with the man.

  Zeke cut his eyes at Cal. “Don’t get testy, Blackie, but there’s no need to discuss our business with every stranger you meet.”

  Blackie reached over to the counter and picked up a bottle of whiskey Thompson had gotten off the shelf. “Here, Zeke,” he said, sneering. “Pour yourself a drink. It looks like you need one.”

  “Damned if I don’t,” Thompson said, and took the bottle and limped off toward the door.

  “Sorry about my friend,” Blackie said to Cal, who was watching Thompson tilt the bottle to the ceiling and take a large swallow. “He ain’t too personable.”

  Cal nodded. “I can see why,” he said. “That leg of his must ache something fierce in this cold weather. I busted a knee once when I was herding beeves, an’ it still hurts in cold weather.”

  Blackie looked over at Thompson. “I suppose so, but my guess is he’s just an asshole. He don’t need no excuse to be snake-mean.”

  The owner of the store cleared his throat and handed Blackie a piece of paper with a list of their supplies and how much it cost. Blackie looked it over, and then he pulled out a wad of bills, counted out the correct amount, and handed it to the clerk.

  “Much obliged,” he said to the store owner. “Hey, boys,” he called to the men who were still browsing in the store. “Come and get this stuff so we can head back to camp.” He paused for a moment, and then he added, “Hank, you think you could go see if Rufus is through with that doctor? I want to make sure he doesn’t stop off at any saloons before he heads on back here.”

  After they’d gathered up their supplies, Blackie tipped his hat to Cal. “Good luck to you with your mining, mister,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Cal answered. “And I hope you get where you’re goin’ without freezing your balls off.”

  Blackie laughed. “Me too.”

  * * *

  After the men in the store gathered up their order and left, Cal stepped to the door and watched them load their supplies and begin to walk their horses out of town.

  A few minutes later, Pearlie could be seen riding past the store, following the men at a safe distance. He glanced over at Cal standing in the doorway and winked and tipped his hat.

  Cal grinned and went back into the store, where he proceeded to fill the rest of the order Smoke had given them. When he had it all stacked up on the counter, the owner of the store shook his head as he totaled the bill. “You and your partner must be planning to do a lot of blasting with all this powder.”

  “Yeah, it’s a mite easier than using a pick and shovel,” Cal answered.

  The owner laughed. “That it is. But one thing, though,” he added as he counted the boxes of cartridges Cal had gotten. “I don’t know as you’re going to need all these shells. The Indians haven’t been giving the miners any trouble for some time now.”

  Cal nodded grimly. “It’s just that my partner and I like to be prepared for whatever may happen.”

  “Looks to me like you’re ready for the next war,” the owner said as he handed Cal the bill.

  Cal counted out the correct amount from the cash Pearlie had given him. “Here you go,” he said. “Do you mind if I leave this stuff here for a while until I can get me a packhorse from the livery?”

  “Not at all, son, I’ll just pile it over here in the corner until you come back.”

  In less than an hour, Cal had purchased a packhorse from the livery man, loaded up their supplies, and taken the animal back to the livery, where he unpacked the boxes and bags of powder, stakes, nails, and cartridges and piled them in the stall where the livery man had his horse stored.

  “I’m gonna leave these supplies here for a day or two, if you don’t mind,” Cal said. “My partner’s out of town for a while and when he gets back we may have to leave in a hurry.”

  “Don’t make no never mind to me, young’un,” the elderly man said. “I don’t ’spect nobody will bother it none.”

  “Thanks,” Cal said, and he went back to the hotel to wait for Smoke to come.

  * * *

  It was mid-afternoon and Cal was lying on the bed taking a nap when the door opened and Smoke walked in.

  Cal jumped to his feet and rushed over to shake Smoke’s hand. “Jiminy, I’m glad to see you, Smoke.”

  Smoke nodded and smiled, and Cal could see he was dead tired from his time on the trail.

  “Any word on the kidnappers?” Smoke asked as he set his saddlebags on the bed.

  “Yeah, there was a group of ’em here this mornin’,” Cal answered. “They bought some supplies at the store an’ Pearlie followed them out of town.”

  “They didn’t have Sally with them?”

  Cal shook his head. “No. They must’ve left a couple of men with her so nobody would see her when they came to town,” Cal said.

  “Which way did they go when they left town?” Smoke asked, standing by the window and staring out at the street three stories below.

  “That away,” Cal answered, pointing northeast. Smoke nodded. “Then they’re headed for Pueblo, like they said they were,” he said.

  “Smoke, you look like you could use some food and a lie-down,” Cal said, worried at the tiredness in Smoke’s eyes.

  “Yeah, I’ve been pushing it pretty hard trying to catch up to them,” Smoke said. “Is the food any good here?”

  Cal smiled. “Pearlie thinks so.”

  “Pearlie would eat anything that didn’t eat him first,” Smoke said. “Come on, let’s get some grub and then I’ll get some shut-eye. If Pearlie’s not back in a few hours, we’ll head out on our own down the trail toward Pueblo.”

  They went down to the dining room and ordered some food and a large pot of coffee. While they were waiting for the food to be cooked, Smoke told Cal about his trip following the men and the note Sally had written on a piece of her dress telling him where they were headed.

  Cal grinned. “Miss Sally is too smart for them galoots,” he said.r />
  “That’s for sure,” Smoke said, and leaned back to let the waiter put their food on the table.

  14

  When they finished eating, Smoke called the waiter over to the table. “Hey, partner, would you have the chef fry us up four or five chickens and wrap them up for us to take with us later?” Smoke asked.

  “Uh, we don’t usually . . .”

  Smoke handed the man a twenty-dollar bill. “Will this take care of it?” he asked, adding, “You can keep whatever’s left over for yourself.”

  “I’ll see that it gets done, sir,” the waiter said, his lips curled in a wide smile. His tip would be more than he usually made in a week.

  As they walked up the stairs to their room, Cal asked, “Why’d you do that?”

  Smoke looked at him. “If we’re going to be following these men up in the mountains, we’re not going to be able to make a fire big enough to cook on without it being seen, so I wanted us to have something we could eat cold.”

  “Oh,” Cal said, relieved that Smoke was doing the thinking for them, because he and Pearlie would never have thought of that.

  Smoke went into the room and flopped down on the bed. “Wake me up in four hours whether Pearlie’s here or not.”

  Before Cal could answer, Smoke was snoring softly and fast asleep.

  * * *

  Cal woke Smoke up and they were ready to leave just before nightfall. On the way out of the hotel, Smoke told the desk clerk to tell Pearlie they were on the trail heading toward Pueblo in case he returned after they left.

  By the time they got the packhorse loaded up and were on their way, it was full dark and a light snow was starting to fall. “That’s good,” Smoke said, staring at the dark clouds in the night sky. “The clouds and snow will keep the temperatures from falling too low in the high country.”

  “It’ll help us track the kidnappers too,” Cal observed.

  Smoke nodded. “That’s true, if they try to get off the trail, but I suspect they’re pilgrims and will stay on the road so they don’t get lost in the mountains.”

  “Are you familiar with this part of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, Smoke?” Cal asked as they rode north, letting their horses find their own speed.

 

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