Trek of the Mountain Man

by William W. Johnstone

  He tied his horse to the hitching rail in front of the saloon and swaggered inside, moving immediately to the bar area. When he cocked his foot up on the brass rail running along the bottom of the bar, Louis Longmont, who was sitting at his usual table having his morning coffee and cigar, noticed the handle of the wicked-looking blade in Williams’s boot.

  Louis’s experienced eyes also took in the way Williams wore his Colt pistol tied down low on his thigh, a sure sign the man wasn’t a stray cowboy stopping by for a quick drink before returning to the herd.

  Though Big Rock occasionally had such men passing through, Louis was on alert because of the continued threat of the men that had kidnapped Sally. He’d discussed the possibility of them coming after Smoke with the Jensens, but this man didn’t fit the descriptions of any of the outlaws Smoke had given him.

  Still, better to be safe than sorry, Louis told himself. Anything out of the ordinary needed to be checked out.

  He sat there, sipping his coffee and letting the smoke from his cigar curl up to be scattered by the wind through the windows and door, as he observed the man at the bar.

  After the redhead downed two quick whiskeys, he took his glass and moved to a table next to Louis’s. When the waiter came over, he ordered a large steak, fried potatoes, and sliced peaches.

  As he sat back and sipped his third whiskey, Louis looked over at him and forced his face into a friendly smile. “Howdy, mister,” Louis said, nodding his head at the man.

  Williams looked at him suspiciously and slowly nodded back, the barest hint of a smile on his ugly face.

  “I’m the owner of this establishment,” Louis said, shifting his chair around to face the man. “I notice you’re new in town and if you need it, I can recommend a good place to stay the night, and I can also tell you who’s hiring hands in the area if you’re looking for a job.”

  Williams’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to men striking up conversations with him in saloons—his face didn’t invite such friendliness.

  “I ain’t plannin’ on stayin’, mister, if it’s any of your concern. I’m just passin’ through.”

  This statement really raised Louis’s concern. Not many men traveled across country this time of year. The winters here were just too difficult for casual travel.

  “Oh, well, then, enjoy your meal and I’m sorry I bothered you,” Louis said. He raised his hand to the waiter and signaled for him to bring the man another drink. “Have a drink on me for the intrusion,” Louis said, and turned back to his table.

  When the waiter poured the man another whiskey, his expression softened. “Hey, mister,” Williams said, holding up the glass. “Thanks for the drink. I didn’t mean to be ornery. It’s just I been on the trail a long time and I ain’t used to talkin’ to other people much.”

  “That’s all right,” Louis said, trying not to seem too interested. “You come from up north?”

  “Yeah,” Williams replied, his voice starting to slur a bit from the amount of liquor he’d consumed. “I was minin’ up in the Rockies till it got too cold. A man offered me a job down here an’ I took it. Anything to get outta the mountains in the winter.”

  Louis figured he’d pressed the man all he could without raising his suspicions, so he just nodded and went back to his coffee and cigar.

  After Williams finished his meal, he got up and walked unsteadily out the batwings. Louis watched him get on his horse and head down the street toward the general store.

  Louis was still watching thirty minutes later when the man came out with a large burlap sack filled with supplies and headed back out of town the way he’d come in.

  Once he was out of sight, Louis walked over to the general store and went inside.

  Ed and Peg Jackson, the owners, were busy stacking shelves with goods that had just come in from Colorado Springs by wagon.

  “Hey, Louis,” Ed said, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. “You in need of some supplies for your restaurant? We just got some tins of tomatoes and peaches that’ll get you through the winter.”

  Louis shook his head. “No, Ed, that’s not why I’m here this time.”

  Ed’s face looked puzzled. “What can I do for you, Louis?” he asked.

  “I’m interested in that redheaded man that was just in here, and I was wondering just what he bought.”

  “Any particular reason?” Ed asked as Peg, wondering what was going on, joined him.

  Louis shrugged. “It’s probably nothing, but Smoke asked me to be on the lookout for any strangers that came to town, just in case those men who kidnapped Sally wanted another chance at him.”

  Ed scratched his chin. “Now let me see,” he said, and then he told Louis about all the things the man had bought.

  “That’s strange,” Louis said. “It sounds like he bought enough supplies for eight or ten men, and he told me he was traveling alone.”

  Ed shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right, Louis. There’s no way a single man could need all the food he bought. It’d go bad before he could finish half of it.”

  “That’s what I thought. Maybe I’d better take a ride on out to the Sugarloaf and tell Smoke about this.”

  Ed started to untie his apron. “You need any help?”

  Louis held up his hand. “No, Ed, but thanks anyway. I may just be jumping to conclusions. No need to get too worried just yet.”

  * * *

  Louis got his horse out of the livery stable and rode as fast as he could out to Smoke’s ranch.

  When he got there, Sally immediately offered him breakfast.

  “No, thanks, Sally,” he said, “I’ve already eaten.”

  “Then, how about a cup of coffee and some of my bear sign?” she asked, pulling a dish towel off a platter covered with the doughnuts.

  Louis smiled as he took off his hat. “Now, that I could go for.” He hesitated. “Uh, Sally, is Smoke around?”

  Her face sobered at his tone. “Yes. He and Cal and Pearlie are out in the front pasture working on some fences that needed mending.”

  “Maybe I’d better go get him,” Louis said. “There’s something I need to talk to you two about.”

  She held up her hand. “No need for that, Louis. Keep your seat.” She walked out on the front porch and rang a large bell hanging there. When she came back in, she said, “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He put that bell there so I could call him in if I needed anything or if anyone showed up who looked suspicious.”

  Sure enough, it wasn’t five minutes before Smoke and Cal and Pearlie came galloping up to the house, pistols in their hands.

  They relaxed and holstered their weapons when they saw Louis’s horse tied up to the rail by the porch.

  They entered the house, still breathing heavily from their rapid ride in from the pasture. “Howdy, Louis,” Smoke said, his eyes going to Sally to make sure nothing was wrong.

  She smiled. “Louis here has something he says he needs to talk to us about, and since the bear sign just came out of the oven, I thought you boys might like a break from working on that fence.”

  “Did you say bear sign?” Pearlie asked, grabbing a chair and sitting at the table, his eyes wide with anticipation.

  Sally’s bear sign were so famous, some neighbors had been known to ride twenty miles just to partake of them.

  Sally put the platter on the table and said, “Dig in, men, while I pour some coffee all around.”

  Once they were eating bear sign and drinking coffee, Smoke glanced at Louis. “Well?” he said.

  Between bites, Louis filled them in on what he’d seen in town and his suspicions about the redheaded stranger. “It may be nothing,” he added, “but I thought you ought to know about it.”

  Smoke nodded gravely. “You did right, Louis. I don’t believe in coincidence when it comes to pond scum like Bill Pike.”

  “But Smoke,” Pearlie said around a mouthful of bear sign, “there weren’t no redheads in that gang.”

  Smoke looked at him. �
��That means Pike has gotten some men to replace those we killed, Pearlie, so there’s no telling how many men we’re going up against.”

  “What do you want to do about it, Smoke?” Louis asked. “You know you can count on my guns, as well as any you need from town.”

  Smoke glanced out of the window at the darkening skies. “There’s no time for that, Louis. If Pike is out there, he’ll probably hit us tonight. That doesn’t leave us enough time to go to town and round up any help.”

  “So, what’s your plan?” Louis asked.

  “First of all, I’m going to send the rest of the hands into town. They’re not gunfighters and I don’t want any more innocent men to die out here.” He paused, glancing at Sally. “And I’d like you to go into town too, sweetheart.”

  Sally’s lips pressed into a tight line. “No, sir, not on your life, Smoke,” she said firmly. “I can handle a gun as well as most men and I don’t intend to run away to town and leave you here to face those men by yourself.”

  “But . . .” Smoke began, until Sally put her hands on her hips.

  “We are not going to argue about this, Smoke. My place is here with you and that’s final.”

  Louis smiled and shook his head. “I think you’re outgunned on this one, Smoke,” he said.

  Smoke slowly nodded. “I think you’re right, Louis. It’s easier to throw a bull in heat than to change a woman’s mind once it’s made up.”

  “I’m glad you all agree,” Sally said, her face softening now that she’d won her argument. “Now, what are we going to do?”

  “Cal, you round up the hands and send them into town. Tell them once they get there to tell Monte Carson what’s going on. I doubt he can get here before morning, but in case they don’t make their move tonight, we’ll have some backup for when they do.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cal said, jumping to his feet and running out the door to round up the hands.

  “What else, Smoke?” Pearlie asked.

  “First of all, Sally’s going to make us lots of coffee and food in case we come under siege, and then we’re going to shut this house up tighter than a drum.” He glanced around, glad that the townspeople, when they’d built the house, had thought to provide wooden shutters for the windows, with small gun ports in them, that could be shut against just such an attack.

  Sally nodded and got to her feet, and began to prepare huge pots of coffee and to start to cook some steaks and biscuits that could be carried in bags for nourishment when needed.

  Smoke leaned forward across the table. “As soon as it gets dark, we’re going to leave one man here with Sally and the rest of us are going to spread out around the house in the woods and wait. When and if they come, we’ll be ready for them.”

  34

  As dusk approached, Smoke had Pearlie take the horses up to a corral in a distant pasture to get them out of harm’s way, and he closed up the house, closing all the shutters and placing rifles and shotguns next to them along with plenty of extra ammunition. Once that was done, he got an old Indian bow and quiver of arrows Cal had been trying to learn to use out of the bunkhouse. Smoke strapped the quiver on his own back.

  “What do you want that old thing for?” Pearlie asked, eyeing the bow with a puzzled stare. “Don’t a rifle or shotgun work better?”

  “Not if you need to dispatch someone quietly and they’re too far away to use a knife,” Smoke answered, a deadly gleam in his eyes.

  He stationed Cal in the house with Sally after pulling him to the side and telling him to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

  “Only way they’ll get to Sally, Smoke,” Cal said seriously, “is over my dead body.”

  Smoke then told Pearlie and Louis to take everything off their clothes that might make any noise. “Remember, sound carries a long way in cold night air,” he cautioned. “The smallest clink or scrape might give your position away.”

  Taking his advice, Pearlie and Louis removed all bits of metal from their clothes, and tied down their holsters tight so they wouldn’t slap against their thighs when they moved or get caught on any branches in the brush.

  As a final measure, Smoke got out a tin of bootblack and they each smeared it on all parts of their exposed skin, making them nearly invisible in the darkness.

  When they got ready to head out into the night, Sally gave each of them a canteen filled with steaming coffee, a bag of steak sandwiches, and a couple of bear sign to help ward off the chill of the night.

  “One thing we got going for us,” Smoke said as they walked out of the door, “is that the moon is hidden by those snow clouds. It’s going to be darker than a prostitute’s heart out there tonight.”

  “Yeah,” Pearlie added, “an’ colder’n a well-digger’s belt buckle.”

  After she closed and locked the door behind them, Sally went around the house, turning down all the lanterns so there was just enough light to see to move, but not enough to make them a target from outside.

  * * *

  As the three men moved off into the brush, Louis looked back at the cabin, thinking how well Smoke had planned the original site when he first built it. All the trees for a hundred yards in all directions had been cut down so there was a clear line of fire from the cabin. There was no way anyone could sneak up on it unobserved and there was no cover nearby for assassins to hide behind.

  Louis smiled to himself. Smoke was a good man to have on your side, he thought, and a deadly adversary to have as an enemy.

  * * *

  Pike and his men moved across the nearby pastures toward the ranch house. When he saw the large house silhouetted against the night sky, Pike was surprised. Since they’d burned the cabin down when they were here before, he figured Smoke and his family would be living out of the bunkhouse. He couldn’t believe the cabin had been rebuilt so fast.

  “Hey, Boss,” Sergeant Joe Rutledge said, “the house looks dark. Maybe they’re not there.”

  Pike put his binoculars to his eyes, and didn’t like what he saw. The windows were all covered, with only small points of dim light visible in them. “They’re there all right,” he said. “They just got the place buttoned up tight, like maybe they’re expectin’ us.”

  “But Bill,” Zeke Thompson said, “there’s no way they coulda know we was comin’ tonight.”

  Pike grunted, staring at Cutter Williams. The fool must’ve given us away somehow, he thought.

  “Yeah, well, don’t count on it,” he said. “You men split up and circle around the house. We’ll just have to come at it from all sides and hope we can get close enough to set it afire an’ burn ’em out.”

  Blackie Johnson didn’t like the sound of that. “Remember, Bill, you said we weren’t gonna kill the woman.”

  Pike glared at him. “Not on purpose, Blackie, but if she’s in there and comes out shootin’, then I can’t be responsible for what the men do.”

  “Lyin’ son of a bitch,” Blackie muttered under his breath as he joined the others in circling around the house.

  * * *

  Smoke was squatting on his haunches, leaning back against a tall pine tree, when he heard the soft sound of a horse’s hooves crunching through nearby snow.

  He slowly stood up, keeping his back up against the tree, and fitted an arrow into his bow.

  When he saw a dark figure leaning over the neck of a horse walking through the forest, he drew the bowstring back, took careful aim, and let go.

  The arrow whispered through the air and embedded itself in the man’s neck with a soft thud.

  “Aieeee,” the man screamed, clawing at his neck to try and stop the horrible pain.

  Smoke bounded through the brush, somehow not making the slightest sound, and jerked the man off his horse, sticking his bowie knife up under his ribs to pierce his heart and kill him instantly.

  Someone twenty yards off through the woods let go with a shotgun, the roar echoing among the trees. Smoke dove to the ground and rolled, feeling his shirt pelted by buckshot, but the range was too far for
the slugs to do any real damage.

  When Smoke rolled up onto his knees, his Colt was in his hand. He fired by blind instinct at the place where he’d seen the fire belch from the shotgun, pumping off three quick rounds a couple of feet apart.

  The third one struck home and he heard a grunt and then a thud as the man toppled from his horse to land on a small bush.

  Circling around, Smoke eased his way toward the man he’d shot to make sure he was dead and not just wounded. He eased around a tree and saw the man, dark blood staining his right shoulder, trying to reload his shotgun.

  Smoke didn’t hesitate. These men who kidnapped women and hid behind them deserved no mercy. He flipped his bowie knife over to grab it by the point and flicked it at the man. It turned over the standard three times and hit the man squarely between the shoulder blades. He flopped forward without a sound. Smoke walked over, removed the knife, and wiped it off on the man’s shirt before sticking it back into his scabbard.

  * * *

  Pearlie jumped when he heard the shotgun go off over to his right, and he felt his heart begin to beat rapidly. This was it. They were out there and on the move, he thought.

  He eased the hammer back on his express gun, having chosen it because of the difficulty of aiming a rifle in the darkness.

  Suddenly, the faint light of the night sky was obscured by the shadows of two men moving past him in the darkness. A slight twinkle of light showed him they had their guns out and were moving toward the house.

  Pearlie, not quite as bloodthirsty as Smoke, felt he ought to give the men a chance to give themselves up. He whispered, “Drop them weapons!”

  Instead of lowering their guns, the men turned toward him and he let go with both barrels, blowing the men out of their saddles and almost cutting them in two at such a close range.

  As he moved past them, the coppery smell of blood and the acrid odor of cordite filled his nostrils. Before he could reload, a man on horseback charged him, firing a pistol wildly.